


Broken Mask

by MrNinjaPineapple



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Action/Adventure, All Factions Mentioned, Attempt at Humor, Brotherhood, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hope, Main Questline with Variations, Main story spoilers, No DLC, Romance, Slow Romance, Spoilers for Companion Quests, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2017-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-24 10:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 58,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8369275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrNinjaPineapple/pseuds/MrNinjaPineapple
Summary: **THIS FIC IS ON HIATUS AS I'M IN THE PROCESS OF REWRITING IT** Follow Marcus, a man out of time. A man who has lost everything; his family, his home, his very identity. In the crumbling remains of his old home, he has created a new life for himself - peaceful, secure. But no man can truly escape his past. And his is about to catch up to him.





	1. Prologue

The super mutants fell in quick succession. Three muffled yelps and the dust billowed as their hulking frames struck the ground with a concussive thud. The father and his daughter, both trembling with fear, had difficulty registering what had just happened. As they slowly peered out from the building, a voice, low and smooth, echoed out from somewhere across the street.

‘Hey! You okay?’

The father struggled to find the source of the question but managed a weak nod, holding his daughter close as they made their way past the trio of dead mutants. As they reached the middle of the road, a figure emerged from the shadows. Leaping down from the balcony, the man straightened up instantly.

Scanning the street, his eyes darted from place to place, examining each window, each doorway. His head tracked something. A shadow unseen by the other two. He slowly raised his rifle, the scope now glinting in the noonday sun. A breath of wind carried across the street, tousling his hair slightly, though his focus remained. His finger tightened on the trigger, pulling slowly before he slowly relaxed his grip. Letting the rifle rest on the sling around his shoulder, he made his way into the building the pair had been hiding in.

A muffled shot pierced the air, the man had fired his silenced rifle. A moment passed before a wailing filled the air. They shuddered as they heard the cry before feeling it resonate through their bones. Low and guttural, it was a noise completely inhuman, and it chilled them both to the core. Taking his daughter by the hand, the father slowly backed away to the other side of the street, hiding in the shadow of the balcony. Another muffled shot. Then another. A body fell to the floor with a loud thump.

The man walked out, a grimace replacing the focused stare. He managed a gruff chuckle before revealing his adversary.

‘Damn hound. Nearly bit me in two.’

He looked at the pair closely, scrutinising their shabby, torn clothes. Both of them had mud-streaked faces and tired eyes. The man’s expression softened.

‘Where’ve you come from?’

The father cleared his throat carefully, eventually croaking out his reply.

‘Mystic Pines.’

‘Long way to come’ said the man, grabbing a canteen from his hip before passing to the father. ‘What you looking for in Concord?’

The father swallowed the cool water and gave the canteen to his daughter.

‘Our home. It… it-‘

‘Raiders?’ The man’s lip curled as he said the word. The father managed a shaky nod before speaking once more.

‘Thank you for saving us, stranger.’

The man gave a curt nod before holding out a hand.

‘Marcus,’ he said, gripping the father’s hand firmly. ‘The name’s Marcus.’

‘I… I’m Jacob,’ stammered the father, still visibly shaken from the previous encounter. ‘And this is Amanda.’

He gestured to the girl, who merely hid behind him. A sad smile crept onto Marcus’ face for a moment before his focused demeanour returned.

‘You run into them in Lexington?’ he said, eyeing the mutant corpses with obvious disdain.

‘Just outside,’ came Jacob’s reply, more confident than before. ‘There. By the overpass.’

He pointed to a crumbling part of the gigantic overpass system, which now snaked its way across the Commonwealth. Marcus grunted in reply, identifying the position for future reference.

‘They don’t usually come this far west,’ he said, grabbing his rifle from the sling. ‘We should keep moving.’

He started off down the street, heading further west. Suddenly, one of the mutants roared to life and began charging at Jacob and Amanda. Turning around, Marcus realised the shot was too close. Cursing, he ran into the fray, pushing the pair away from the mutant. The full force of the mutant slammed into his side, throwing him hard against the wall and knocking the breath from his lungs. The mutant turned frantically, his crazed eyes spotting Jacob once again. Moving slowly now, he made his way towards the pair.

With a flash of steel, Marcus was on the mutant. Holding onto his neck, he began stabbing and slashing wildly for what felt like an eternity. As the knife found its way into the mutant’s throat, he gave a great gurgling roar, throwing Marcus off before falling to the ground once again.

Not wasting any time, Jacob ran over to the downed Marcus, holding Amanda close all the while. He felt for a pulse before reeling as Marcus sputtered back into existence, coughing blood and phlegm onto the ground beside him.

‘He dead?’ he said, barely managing to look up at Jacob.

‘I… I don’t know.’ He helped Marcus to his feet slowly, scrunching his face up as he spotted the blood stain slowly expanding across his right side. Standing on his own feet slowly, Marcus grabbed a stimpak from the small satchel at his waist, and jammed it into his side. The sharp hiss of the stimpak’s auto-injector masked his wince. He threw away the used stimpak before walking over to the mutant.

Retrieving his knife, he hefted his rifle up from the sling and fired two shots into the mutant’s chest. Moving quicker now, he carried on back down the path.

‘Come on,’ he said over his shoulder, managing to flash a sharp grin. ‘Sanctuary awaits.’


	2. Sanctuary

Marcus walked slowly along the road, patrolling with his signature sniper rifle, Reason. He would often joke with the other settlers on patrol that any Raider that didn’t listen to him, would always listen to Reason. It was another slow day however, and with the Commonwealth sun beating down, he soon found himself slick with sweat. Removing his duster, he took the opportunity to head down to the river and cool off. Walking down the road at a slow pace, he watched the settlers go about their duties with a profound sense of pride. When he had found this place, it had been nothing more than a desolate waste infested with radroaches and bloatflies. A shadow of its former self. With the help of Codsworth, a defective old Mr Handy, he had cleared the creatures, rebuilt the town, and was finally able to live alone in peace.

It wasn’t long however, until the first settlers arrived. Tired and hungry, they had no other choice than to throw themselves before the gates. Marcus couldn’t leave them there and so he welcomed them into Sanctuary, giving them food, water, and a roof over their heads. Other settlements soon heard of this place beyond Concord where they would be safe from the dangers of the Commonwealth, and they flocked to this safe haven from miles around. A pact was made whereby every able-bodied settler in Sanctuary would work for the entire community. Farmers planted the crops and made sure that the brahmin were well-stocked and well-fed. The engineers and tinkerers made sure the turrets were functional and made sure the power stayed on. There was even a pair of scientists from the Capital Wasteland who built and ran the water purification plant on the riverbank. He had built a self-sustaining community with all of the essential resources but the surge of people grew and he found himself unable to deal with the demands of so many. This influx of new settlers also, unknown to any within Sanctuary, created unwanted attention, and they soon found themselves the target of a ruthless group of raiders in an event that would later come to be called The Siege.

Nobody expected the attack. From afar, they took out the turrets, leaving the camp near defenceless. When the settlers realised what was happening, there was mass panic, with families scurrying to their new home whilst others attempted to erect makeshift fortifications. It was all for nought however, as the second wave attacked. Molotovs were thrown over the barricades and the dying writhed in agony as their flesh charred. Marcus was at the gates, trying to hold back the raiders when their commander, a brute of a man they called Gristle, walked out onto the bridge. In makeshift power armour, he called a cease-fire and called out to the citizens of Sanctuary to negotiate the terms of their surrender. Marcus was helpless to watch as this force threatened to overwhelm their newfound security.

That was when Preston came. Preston Garvey, leading a small group of minutemen and settlers started attacking the raiders from the east, from the direction of Concord. Surprising the raiders, their muskets charged and crackled with explosive energy, tearing through flesh and metal alike. Joining them, the residents of Sanctuary began the attack from their barricades and soon, the raider threat had either been killed or had surrendered meekly, pleading for forgiveness. They had done it. They had successfully repelled the raider threat and saved their home, though it was a hard-fought victory. The fallen far outnumbered the living and Sanctuary was once again a scorched ruin. But with the aid of Preston Garvey, the new general of the Minutemen, they were once again able to rebuild. And this time, they made sure to make defence a priority.

Sanctuary was now a fortress. Living up to its name, the citizens which now resided within the town lived in peace behind the great wall, a mighty structure which stretched around the entire settlement, built as a result of The Siege. Spotlights, turrets, and sniper towers manned by the most able settlers further ensured the safety of Sanctuary. With their numbers reduced drastically, the scarcity of food and water no longer became an issue and Sanctuary thrived once more. Preston and his band established a small outpost within the settlement, using it to reinforce their position in the western fringes of the Commonwealth.

Marcus’ chest swelled with pride as he looked on what they had accomplished together. Families no longer existed in the Commonwealth, but here they lived. He made his way through the reinforced gates and crossed the bridge. The electric whir of the turrets as they scanned the horizon soothed his weary mind. Stripping away his vest, he entered the river. His Pip-Boy began crackling faintly, registering minor levels of radiation but he knew he could swim for hours before RadAway was needed. He let the river carry him a while, slowly drifting towards the sluice-gate which led to the water purification plant. Leopold, the scientist from the Capital Wasteland who ran the plant, noticed Marcus through the thick bars and leaned over the railing.

‘Too hot to pat… patrol, eh?’ he said, twitching slightly on every other word.

The Siege had been devastating on the citizens of Sanctuary. Those who had survived the horrendous ordeal had been left with their own scars. Some, like Marcus, bore physical reminders of that day, such as the deep scar running across his chest. Others, however, couldn’t claim to be so fortunate. Leopold came to Sanctuary with Ernest Strang, a friend and colleague from their days in DC. The two were inseparable, building and running the purification plant together with the almost psychic connection from years of working together. During The Siege, Ernest was caught by a stray bullet, leaving him helpless when the molotovs came raining from the skies. Helpless to watch as Ernest slowly burned before him, the screams seemed to stay with Leopold, changing him.

‘Yeah, Leo. Just needed a quick dip’ said Marcus, trying hide his sad smile. Leopold hadn’t seemed to notice.

‘Jus… Just don’t let Ol’ Ern catch you in there. You kn… know how he… how he gets.’

‘Yeah,’ Marcus said wearily. Keeping up the pretence had become difficult lately. Leopold was getting worse and some of the others were beginning to talk. ‘How is Ern lately?’

Leopold took his time to answer, his jaw working furiously before finally replying.

‘He’s good. Likes his privacy y… you know? Won’t see him out too often.’

Marcus nodded in response before bidding farewell to Leopold and swimming back to the bridge. He had always liked the two scientists, even though the others had thought them strange and eccentric. To see what had become of one of the greatest minds he’d ever known gave him an empty feeling deep in his stomach. He thought, not for the first time, how easy it would be to just let go. Let the current take him away and slowly leave behind all of the worries and pain. Sanctuary would be in fine hands with Preston and the others, but something always pulled him back to reality, and he shook away the dark thoughts as he left the cool embrace of the river.

* * *

Back in Sanctuary, Marcus sat outside his home, enjoying the soft glow of the moonlight. The low hiss of Codsworth’s jet propulsion system was a familiar undertone to the cool night breeze and the distant sound of the river. In his low-power state, Codsworth was barely able to function, much to the annoyance of Sturges and the other mechanics who would have appreciated the skill of a pre-war maintenance bot. Marcus had told them all that he was faulty and was liable to frenzy and there had been numerous offers to take a look but he had turned them all away. The truth was that Codsworth reminded him of a life he had tried so hard to forget.

Leaving Vault 111, Nate, as he had been called then, stumbled into the unforgiving wastes of the Commonwealth. Heading to Sanctuary, he had found it desolate and barren. Strange creatures had attacked him and chased him to his house, where Codsworth’s timely intervention had saved his life. After hearing of Nora and her demise at the hands of the unknown man, and the kidnapping of Shaun, Codsworth was ready to set off in search of him. But Nate was reluctant to leave everything behind once again. To the admonishment of Codsworth, he clung to his past life as an army sniper and began fortifying Sanctuary, creating a small outpost. Through night-time forays into raider camps, he had amassed an impressive arsenal of weaponry and ammunition. Changing his name to Marcus, after an old spotter during the Great War, he began trading with local settlements, slowly building up not only his reputation, but the notoriety of Sanctuary itself.

Codsworth had ultimately had enough and decided to intervene. As the first settlers began to arrive, he began chiding Marcus for abandoning his old life and his responsibilities for nothing more than a facsimile. Clinging to his new life more than ever, Marcus decided to put Codsworth into a low-power state, ridding himself of the final vestiges of his past life. He was Nate no longer, but Marcus, the strong, capable leader of Sanctuary.

Putting the empty bottle down, he raised himself from the chair before wobbling slightly. Putting his hand to the fencepost, he chuckled to himself softly as his balance returned. He looked over at Codsworth, and seeing the power switch, allowed his hand to hover for a while. He stared intensely at the switch. His hand fell.

‘Torn between two lives at the flick of a switch,’ he thought to himself, allowing himself a sad smile. He turned to enter the doorway but stopped halfway. ‘Stay safe, buddy.’

He whispered this softly as a single tear rolled down his cheek, losing itself within his matted beard. He placed his hand gently on Codsworth’s chrome shell, feeling the cold metal beneath his fingers before turning back to the house and retiring for the night.


	3. Resurgence

That night, Marcus found his sleep troubled and shallow. The dark thoughts of the day weighed heavy on his mind and there was an emptiness growing within him which he found difficult to shake. He awoke with a start and looked around the dark room as his heart beat wildly. Slowly his senses returned and finding no solace in sleep, he climbed out of bed.

He walked over to the window and watched as the world turned. The moon reflected off the tarmac, shining onto the surrounding buildings and giving the road an ethereal quality. He could hear the distant mechanical whir of the turrets and the low chattering of the minutemen patrolling their usual route along the road, the dull red glow of their laser muskets giving just enough light for him to see their faces. As they passed by, the cold breeze crept into the room, seeping into his bones. He took a thick shawl from the cupboard and draped it over his shoulders.

Leaving his room, Marcus walked into the room directly opposite and picked up the stuffed bear on the small threadbare carpet in the middle of the floor. Placing it back on the shelf, he took his time to examine the room itself. The shelves had been rearranged and a variety of toys and board games lined them. Not only were the shelves full but the floor was cluttered with an equally mismatched collection of miniature models of cars, aliens, and rocketships. He had allowed the room to become a makeshift nursery, offering the children of Sanctuary a place to play under the supervision of Agatha, an old teacher who had found her way to Sanctuary from a vault in the south. Hand-drawn pictures were pinned onto the cork board by the window, with deathclaws and Brotherhood soldiers being a favourite focus for the children’s artistic talents. His eye was drawn however, to a picture which lay in the broken crib in the corner of the room; left untouched by his own command.

Against a stark blue background, there was a crudely drawn picture of Marcus holding the hand of a small child. His rifle was slung over his shoulder and both he and the child were smiling. His finger delicately traced the outline of the child, studying the boy with great detail.

Shaun.

The name lingered in the back of his mind and he felt the familiar emptiness growing once again. He tried in vain to push down the feeling but it turned to anger and began rising though him. His hands began to shake as his grip on the fragile paper tightened, crumpling the edges slightly. He had never felt so utterly helpless before. The thought that-

A floorboard creaked in the hallway behind him.

Marcus turned quickly, his hand instinctively reaching for the sidearm that was normally strapped to his thigh. The shawl fell from his shoulders to the floor with a muffled thud as he eyed the scared woman in the hallway. She recoiled, startled by his violent reaction.

‘Oh,’ he said, his expression still grim. ‘I’m sorry.’

He looked down at the crumpled picture in his hand and saw a dark smudge where a tear had landed. He brushed his face roughly with his hands, turning away from the woman. Meanwhile, the woman had regained her composure and was leaning timidly forward at the doorway, afraid to step into the room.

‘Are… Are you okay?’ she stammered, her face showing genuine concern for Marcus. ‘It’s just I saw your light was on and-‘

She trailed off, a strange expression on her face. He nodded and chuckled gruffly before beckoning her to enter the room.

‘Just caught me at a bad time, that’s all.’

She entered slowly and looked around, giving him a chance to watch her in detail. He had seen her around Sanctuary before. Although with her shoulder-length blonde hair, piercing green eyes, and shapely figure, he was certain he wasn’t the only man who had noticed her. He studied her lazily as she moved about the room, before speaking again.

‘You’re one of the new settlers, aren’t you?’ he said, racking his brains to remember her name. She nodded slowly, her movements languid, almost mirroring his own. ‘Cynthia, right?’

At this last, she smiled a wide grin which caused her emerald eyes to sparkle. Marcus looked down as his face suddenly grew hot. It was true he had definitely noticed her before. Even exchanged a furtive glance or two in the canteen at mealtimes. Perhaps he had even entertained the notion of a secret liaison under the moonlight. He pushed aside these foolish thoughts and wrestled back his focus to find Cynthia examining the crib.

‘Such a sad reminder of the old world,’ she said quietly, her hand slowly caressing the rail. She turned to him with a sad smile. ‘Are you _really_ okay?’

He felt his face begin to redden. She walked over and placed her hand on his, still holding the picture. She looked at the drawing and smiled faintly.

‘I saw you last night as well but I didn’t want to disturb you,’ she said, her tone soothing.

He lowered his head as he slowly slumped into the seat behind him. She stayed beside him, taking the other chair, her hand never leaving his. He wondered at this sudden affection but passed it off as nothing more than an amiable gesture. He raised his head and for a brief second, caught a glimpse of her face twitching. The growing despair vanished in an instant and his senses were suddenly alert. She got up and carried on speaking, now walking idly about the room. But his mind raced.

Most of the settlers had tics. Little eccentricities from the harsh treatment of the Commonwealth – his mind turned to Leo and his oddities – but this was different. The twitch had stirred something deep within him, a revulsion which he couldn’t explain. He wanted to run but his legs felt heavy. His mind was a jumble of thoughts but two words kept on repeating in the mess.

Broken Mask.

He vaguely remembered reading the reports. There was something about a synth who went crazy a few years back and started shooting people in Diamond City. Nobody knew what triggered the attack. He seemed to be a normal trader, wandering through town, swapping stories at the noodle stand. But just before the attack, residents said his face started to twitch. After he had killed a number of residents, the city guard eventually brought him down and studying his body, found him to be a synth. The residents of Diamond City had never truly forgotten this event and lived in constant fear of synth infiltration.

‘But she isn’t a synth,’ he thought, watching her more closely now. ‘She can’t be.’

Her movements were fluid and slow, deliberate but not mechanical. He stood and slowly edged his way along the wall to the doorway, keeping his eyes on Cynthia’s back as she stared out the window, still talking. Slowly, he managed to step backwards out into the hallway when a male voice from the bathroom made his blood run cold.

‘He knows.’

Suddenly, Cynthia turned, her warm smile replaced by a blank expression. In her hand, she held a baton which crackled with wide arcs of blue electricity. As Marcus turned to face the man who was slowly emerging from the bathroom, he had just enough time to catch a glimpse of blue light before he lunged sideways, across the hallway and into his bedroom. The blue beam hit the wall beside him in a flash of blinding light, splintering the wood and leaving behind a strong smell of ozone. There was a distant call from outside the window.

The beam had grazed his side as he lunged, making him grunt with pain as he landed hard on the bedroom floor. Quickly rolling to his feet, he narrowly avoided the baton as it swung past his face, hitting the floorboards with a crack. Cynthia had entered the bedroom and was slowly closing in on him as the other man watched from the hallway, the white rifle glowing blue; ready to fire once more.

Marcus backed away from Cynthia and remembered the 10mm pistol he kept on his dresser. He reached out to grab it but the baton swung once again and this time, it found its mark. It struck his wrist and sent a jolt of electricity through his body. His muscles seized and he cried out in pain. Outside, lights began to turn on and the alarm began wailing. The residents had heard the commotion.

As his muscles began to spasm, he quickly fell back, barely avoiding another swing. He found himself backed against the wall beside his bed with Cynthia slowly approaching him, her face still showing no sign of emotion. Through the window, Marcus could vaguely see a crowd gathering, the minutemen at the very front trying to keep the residents back. One of the minutemen happened to look in at the scene and shouted a quick warning. Cynthia turned.

Taking the opportunity, Marcus grabbed hold of her wrists and slammed them into the wall beside him. The baton fell to the ground with a dull thud. The man from the hallway entered the room, pointing his weapon straight at Marcus. Still wrestling with Cynthia, he managed to manoeuvre her so that she was between him and the man, blocking the shot. The blue light filled the small room as the beam fired. Marcus watched helplessly as the beam found its way out the window and he heard the crowd panic and scream.

The other synth was firing on the residents.

With newfound strength, he pushed Cynthia back onto the bed and, rolling across the floor, grabbed the pistol laying on the tattered rug.

Getting to his feet, he fired two shots into the man, rocking him. Firing again and again, each shot hitting its mark, he made his way around the bed. As the final shot struck, the synth fell to the ground, electricity crackling slightly from his wounds. Marcus took the laser rifle and quickly pointed it at Cynthia.

She stood across the room, on the other side of the bed, holding the baton once again. Her face softened as she looked at the crumpled body of the male synth.

‘It’s over?’ she said softly through the tears. Marcus eyed her warily. He had seen her change in an instant before.

She took a step forward.

‘Woah,’ he said, levelling the rifle. ‘Just… just stay where you are.’ His arms dropped slightly and he realised how tired he was. Sweat beaded his forehead. He heard voices calling from beyond the hallway and shouted back. In an instant, Preston stood beside him, his laser musket held steady.

Marcus began to explain to Preston what had just happened when Cynthia interrupted.

‘Marcus,’ she said, her eyes glistening. ‘Please… He made me do it.’

She pointed at the body of the synth before carrying on.

‘I didn’t have any choice,’ she explained, a tear now rolling down her cheek. ‘He told me he’d hurt me if I didn’t. I…’

She looked straight into Marcus’ eyes defiantly.

‘I am not one of _them_!’

Both men watched her closely now.

Marcus’ grip began to loosen as his wrist started burning. His arms flagged and he dropped them to his sides. Taking the opportunity, he told Preston to stand guard as he moved to the doorway, hoping to get some fresh air.

As he turned to the doorway however, Cynthia leapt across the room in an attempt to grab him. Something glinted in her hand.

Preston didn’t hesitate.

The red beam tore through Cynthia’s chest, leaving a wide hole crackling slightly with electricity. Spinning around, Marcus watched as she fell to the ground like the other synth. Her eyes were wide open, following his movements, as she lay there.

She spoke with a voice unlike her own; cold and robotic.

‘ _CN-14. Primary directive to retrieve subject Nate Howard. Location, Sanctuary. Error. Critical failures detected. Shutting dowwwww-‘_

The mechanical voice faded into nothingness as her eyes went cold. Marcus noticed the object in her hand and reached down to take it. It was a holotape marked ‘Primary Directive’. He transferred it onto his Pip-Boy and left the room. As he stepped into the hallway, he looked back at the bodies on the floor. He sighed wearily before leaving the house.

* * *

With his arm in a sling and the events of the previous night fresh in his mind, he decided to take it easy and sit by the bridge. He had always enjoyed the view and he liked the peace and quiet of the river without the constant babble of Sanctuary.

Taking a seat, he let himself drift into an uneasy sleep, comforted by the soft whir of the turrets on their unending vigil. He was woken suddenly by a low beeping noise coming from his Pip-Boy. The data he had transferred from the holotape had been encrypted and the flashing screen informed him that the decryption process was complete. Opening the file, he heard a voice which shook him to his core. It was a voice he would never forget. The man with the scar. The one who killed Nora.

The message began:

‘ _Listen up, Synth. I’m not gonna repeat myself. You’re gonna go to Sanctuary and find a man called Nate, OK? Now he might be using the name Marcus but don’t worry, this is him…’_

An old photo of Nate appeared on the screen. In his army uniform and helmet, Marcus wondered where the man had found it. An archive, maybe?

The message continued:

‘ _Once you’ve located the target, you’re to bring him to me. Unharmed. Understood? We’ll be moving out soon. Remember, we’ll be at Hagen, ready for renegade. And be careful. I don’t want this to get complicated. I don’t want him finding out about the kid. The old man would be-‘_

The message began beeping erratically before an error message flashed across the screen. It blinked for a moment before being replaced by a small message:

‘MARCUS. FIND KELLOGG. I’M SORRY. C’

C? Was this a message from Cynthia?

He thought about how she had lunged after him with the holotape in her hand. Maybe she wasn't trying to grab him. Maybe she was trying give him the tape.

Marcus massaged his temples, trying in vain to ease the headache he felt coming on. The man who had taken both Shaun and Nora from him, the man who had turned him into the man he was now, was so close. And Shaun…

Shaun was alive.

The realisation hit him suddenly and he found himself laughing, giddy with joy. That must have been the ‘kid’ from the message. He was alive. He had to be. Why else would the man have sent synths to stop him from finding out?

Forgetting the pain in his arm, Marcus ran back through Sanctuary, heading towards his home. Inside, he began packing a small satchel with essentials; stimpaks, extra ammo, food. As he was rushing around his room, he accidently bumped into one of the dressers, causing a photo frame to fall to the ground with a small thud. He picked it up and found that the glass had remained intact. Placing it back on the dresser, he stopped to examine the picture itself. It was a small picture of him and Amanda, one of Sanctuary’s younger residents.

He remembered saving her and her father from super mutants in Concord a few years back. He looked at the picture fondly. She had grown so much. She wasn’t the frightened little girl he had saved in Concord. But she wasn’t the only one. Her father too had changed. And Leo. And all of them. All of the residents.

He slumped back and sat on the edge of his bed. He couldn’t leave Sanctuary. They needed him. Didn’t they?

His mind was a rush and once again, he found himself massaging his temples to ease the pain. He sighed heavily.

‘Cap for your thoughts.’

Preston stood in the doorway, leaning against the wooden frame. He walked over and stood by the dresser, looking out of the window. Marcus began to speak.

‘Preston, I-‘

‘You’re leaving,’ said Preston, gesturing to the open satchel on the floor, his back still to Marcus.

He turned around and looked at Marcus’ face before smiling, a wide toothy grin.

‘Don’t get me wrong now. That’s not an accusation,’ he said with the confidence only the General of the Minutemen could muster. ‘I think you should go.’

Marcus looked at him quizzically before opening his mouth to speak but Preston held up a hand to silence him.

‘You forget that I’m one of the only people here who’s heard what Codsworth has to say. I’ve been here long enough,’ he said, faltering slightly. ‘I’ve known you long enough, to know that _this_ isn’t where you’re meant to be.’

He waited a moment before offering Marcus his hand and helping him stand.

‘Thank you.’

Marcus’ reply wasn’t much more than a whisper but Preston nodded in response.

‘Just do me one favour before you go,’ he said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. ‘Have a shower.’

And for the second time that day, Marcus found himself laughing uncontrollably, with Preston joining him only a moment later.

* * *

The two men packed slowly, giving Marcus time to tell his story from the beginning. All the way back to before the bombs fell. With both of them packing however, it wasn’t long before Marcus was ready to go. His satchel full, and Reason slung across his back, he stood in front of his house with Preston at his back. He turned with a smile.

‘Take care of the place while I’m gone, OK.’

He turned and began to walk towards the gate but was stopped by Preston.

‘Hold on, aren’t you forgetting something?’

Marcus looked at him for a second, brow furrowed in confusion, before realising. He walked back, over to the side of his house. He could hear the low hiss of Codsworth’s propulsion systems as he turned the corner and saw his chrome shell. Steeling himself, he flicked the switch and watched as the old Mr Handy powered up.

As chirpy as the day he was first made, Codsworth looked around with his tri-camera eyes, before spotting Marcus.

‘Ah Master Nate. How are you today, sir? Well I hope. Any luck with the missus and young Shaun yet?’

‘I’ve found Shaun, Codsworth. We’ve got a lead on something. Someone.’

Codsworth’s mechanical limbs whirred with excitement.

‘Oh. And who might that be?’

Marcus’ jaw tightened and his eyes gained a steely resolve as he spoke; a single word full of righteous hatred.

‘Kellogg.’


	4. To Diamond City

Not knowing where to find Kellogg, Marcus and Codsworth decided to head to Diamond City, to see whether there was someone there who knew anything. They made their way across the bridge and headed east towards Concord. They reached the old Red Rocket station, now a small communications outpost used by the Brotherhood of Steel. As they passed by, a giant man in dull power armour tracked their movements, his head turning with a mechanised hum. The Brotherhood flag waved in the wind, a faint fluttering overlapping the sharp whistle of the breeze. Marcus took a moment and nodded to the man, who replied in kind.

With the outpost so close to Sanctuary, Marcus had traded for supplies and weapons with them, even going so far as setting up a small scavenging operation within the Red Rocket outpost, under the express supervision of the one of their field scribes.

He had found them to be a reticent group which suited him perfectly. There was no inquisition as to his life and in turn, he respected their privacy and boundaries; a mutual agreement.

As he walked towards Concord, Marcus thought about the first time he encountered the Brotherhood. He remembered the alarm blaring and being woken by Preston. Together, they climbed the East sniper tower by Sanctuary’s main gate and saw the source of the disturbance. Silhouetted against the moonlight, the distinct shapes of three vertibirds had been spotted hovering in a wide circle around the small farmstead to the south. As they watched, two broke away and headed towards them. One at the Red Rocket station to the east whilst the other stayed in the air, circling Sanctuary. Over the roaring wind, Marcus could make out the words coming from the vertibird’s speakers.

_‘People of the Commonwealth. Do not interfere. Our intentions are peaceful. We are the Brotherhood of Steel.’_

At the mention of the Brotherhood, Marcus saw far below in Sanctuary, how some of the settlers cheered as if they had finally been rescued from some terrible ordeal. Others however, simply huddled together, eyeing the airship with suspicion.

Marcus watched the ship circle for a time, its message of peace repeating monotonously, battling the noise of the wind. He began to climb down the tower when Preston called him over. That’s when he first saw it.

They called it the Prydwen. A forty thousand ton war machine built for a single purpose. To dominate the Commonwealth. Arriving in a show of power with a full retinue of vertibirds escorting it, the giant vessel instilled fear in all who saw it. As it passed by Sanctuary, on its way to the Cambridge outpost as Marcus later discovered, he could hear the screams from the residents far below him on the ground. He watched as they scurried back inside, some brave enough to peer from their windows whilst others merely stood with their mouths agape, frozen in place by the sight of such a ship.

The Prydwen had gone on to anchor at the old airport, and the vertibirds which landed close to Sanctuary quickly garnered sufficient trade relations with Marcus and the residents, but he had never trusted them completely. Something unnerved him about their unwavering belief in Brotherhood doctrine. Some, he had found, even bordered on zealotry and fanaticism. He had no time to think on this further as Codsworth spoke, pulling him out of his reverie.

‘Sir, I believe we have company,’ he said, raising his buzz saw appendage to point ahead.

Marcus realised how far they had walked as he looked around him and saw that they were in the middle of Concord. At the end of the street, just before the Museum of Freedom, was a small group of people heading towards them. The two in the back in full T-60 power armour were clearly Brotherhood knights. The other two however, were different.

The man had close-cropped hair and seemingly wore a permanent scowl. His deep-set eyes were dark, contrasting his unusually sallow countenance. His orange and grey uniform was worn under a set of leather armour which had been scratched and ripped extensively. Marcus noticed a bloody bandage on his left shin.

The woman however, looked fresh and lively. Her auburn hair was tied back in a loose ponytail and a warm smile was etched onto her face. A thin sheen of sweat reflected off her face and revealed an angular beauty to her other undistinctive features. Her armour, which Marcus knew to be that of a field scribe, was in pristine condition.

Marcus recognised them both.

‘Knight Rhys,’ he said, addressing the man as the group came to a halt a few feet away. The two armour-clad knights stayed on either side of the street, scanning the area for hostile movement.

‘Civilian.’

Rhys’ reply was cold and uninterested, as it always was, but Marcus sensed something more. He ignored it for the time being however, and focused his attention on the woman, a smile widening across his face.

‘Haylen,’ he said, as she came closer. ‘You look as lovely as ever.’

She embraced him fondly. For a second, he could smell the familiar, sickly sweet odour of RadAway. After a moment, Haylen stepped back sheepishly, her cheeks slightly tinged red. His eyes wrinkled as he chuckled softly. Rhys’ scowl deepened but he looked on, a mask of indifference painted on his face.

‘It’s good to see you again Marcus’ said Haylen. She looked over his shoulder at Codsworth and looked at him expectantly.

‘Codsworth, this is Field Scribe Haylen,’ he said, gesturing to Haylen as she gave a little wave. ‘And this is Knight Rhys.’

Rhys continued to look away. Codsworth didn’t seem to notice however, and the excitement was evident in his voice.

‘A pleasure to meet you both. I must say, I didn’t realise Mr Howard had so many friends! Will you be accompanying us to Diamond City, then?’

Haylen raised an eyebrow as Marcus sighed, looking at Codsworth with a weary expression.

‘Mr Howard?’ said Haylen playfully. She let the awkwardness linger for a moment before putting Marcus out of his misery. ‘What you looking for in the Great Green Jewel?’

Marcus’ jaw tightened slightly as he answered.

‘Answers’ he said quietly, letting the wind take the word.

Haylen noticed the change in his demeanour but stayed silent. She took the time to root around in her bag for something before pulling out a small metal tag.

‘Here,’ she said, offering the tag to Marcus. ‘You should take this. It’s a holotag which gives you some privilege with the Brotherhood.’

Rhys began to protest but was quickly waved away by Haylen, who continued to speak.

‘The Cambridge outpost is on the way. Take the south road and head past Lexington. You should rest up and resupply if you need to.’

Rhys went back to scowling as Marcus took the small metal tag. Turning it over in his hands, he saw the inscription – _‘In Vitam. In Mortem. Semper Invicta.’_.

‘Thanks Haylen’ he said, flashing her a wide grin. Rhys suddenly turned and began to walk away. One of the knights followed him, heading back to the Red Rocket outpost. Marcus and Haylen watched as he turned off the main street.

‘A surly fellow, isn’t he?’ Codsworth commented, his wry observation making both Marcus and Haylen chuckle.

‘He is a bit worse than usual,’ said Marcus. ‘What happened? A deathclaw get him where it counts?’

Still laughing, Haylen did her best to give him her best disapproving glare.

‘That’s not funny. We ran into a nest of mole rats just up the road,’ she said, gesturing behind her, back past the Museum of Freedom. ‘He got bit and he just-‘

‘His left leg’ said Marcus, interrupting. Haylen looked at him quizzically. He chuckled before explaining. ‘I saw the bandage’

‘Yeah, I patched him up as best I could, but he refused to take any RadAway. He kept telling me to take it and-‘

‘You took it,’ he said, analysing the state of her armour once again. ‘Even though you weren’t attacked.’

He remembered the torn and shabby condition of Rhys’ armour and suddenly realised.

‘He was protecting you’ he said softly.

A blush began to creep its way onto Haylen’s cheeks and her gaze was firmly placed on her boots. He cleared his throat, breaking the tension.

‘You should go back to him,’ he said. ‘Make sure he’s okay.’

She smiled and nodded. He put the holotag around his neck and loosened the strap on his rifle sling.

‘Thanks for the tag, Haylen’ he said, as they embraced a final time. ‘Stay safe.’

‘Yes, do stay out of harm’s way, Miss Haylen. And tell that surly chap to stop being so stubborn and get proper medical attention, will you.’

‘Thanks Codsworth,’ she said as both she and Marcus laughed. ‘And thank you too, Mr Howard’ she said, turning to Marcus with a wolfish grin. She turned to leave but instead placed a hand on his shoulder and adopted a more solemn tone. ‘I hope you find your answers in Diamond City, Marcus.’

He nodded and watched as she turned and headed up towards the Red Rocket outpost, the hulking knight following a few paces behind, still scanning the area. He watched as she turned the same corner Rhys had before making sure their provisions were in order.

‘What a charming woman, Sir!’ came the emphatic observation from Codsworth, his excitement for being out of Sanctuary still fresh.

Marcus smiled in reply and together they turned and headed down the road in the opposite direction.

* * *

At the Museum of Freedom, they took Haylen’s advice and followed the road south. As he walked past the museum, Marcus looked the old church beside it. Its door was long gone and the dirt of the road formed a natural carpet inside. Even from the road, he could see the white paint flaking off the wooden boards and remembered a time when the building was freshly painted.

On either side of the road stood houses, not unlike his own back in Sanctuary. The wind whistled through the empty road and the crunch of gravel underfoot echoed slightly alongside the creaking of the old houses. He shivered inwardly at the knowledge that these houses once contained families just like his. He closed his eyes for a moment to steel himself. Everywhere he turned, there were remnants; reminders of a past long forgotten. He shook these thoughts from his mind and continued along the dusty road.

Reaching a small curve in the road, the pair stop before an old billboard. Most of the panels had fallen off and the ones that remained had faded into different shades of grey. It towered above them from the left side of the road, but their interest was held by something else. A sign ahead was swaying slightly in the breeze. As they neared, Marcus was able to read the faded letters:

_Drumlin Diner – Open 24/7!_

‘Oh, look Sir! A diner!’ said Codsworth, already heading for the entrance. ‘You can’t beat a good home-cooked meal!’

Marcus sighed as he trudged up the road after him. He had barely gone a few steps before he heard Codsworth’s voice from inside the diner.

‘Sir! You’d better come and see this.’

Drawing his pistol, Marcus covered the ground quickly and headed into the diner. His eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light and he could make out the distinct shape of Codsworth hovering to the left. He looked around and saw that none of the dining tables remained but were instead replaced by rubble and debris. Bullet casings littered the floor and Marcus was sure that someone, or something, had died here. The smell was unmistakable.

Walking over to Codsworth, he saw what the robot was looking at. Three bodies had been unceremoniously dragged over to the corner of the room and were slumped against the wall. Marcus scanned the area warily before holstering his pistol. He looked at the bodies and grimaced. There was a middle-aged woman, a boy in his late teens, and a tall man in raider leathers. From the smell, he knew that they had been dead for a few days at least.

He checked the pockets, trying his best to ignore the grisly scene. As he suspected they were empty, and a quick scan of the rest of the diner revealed that the entire place had been picked clean. The safe behind the counter had even been pried open and the contents removed. Marcus had begun to leave when Codsworth called him back.

‘Sir, I believe I’ve found something.’

He walked over to the robot and took the holotape which was gripped by his claw appendage. Plugging it into his Pip-Boy, he transferred over the data before placing the holotape down. He found the file on the main screen and tapped the play button. An unfamiliar female voice filled the small diner:

_‘Trudy didn’t pay in the end. Not that it matters now. Killed her and that snot-nosed brat of hers. Wolfgang took his time with the boy. He was so busy he didn’t see me take the knife outta my boot-‘_

The audio began crackling and screeched back into life suddenly:

_‘-everyone pays their debt in the end. Simone out.’_

The audio finally cut out and the sun began to fill the diner through the broken blinds. Marcus realised how long they had spent there. Leaving, he saw that the sun was high and the day had grown hot. Midday. Tying his jacket around his waist and making sure his rifle was properly secured in the sling, he set off once again, Codsworth hovering at a steady pace behind him.

They continued south, heading past a large pylon. The air around them still crackled slightly and Marcus could feel the ground vibrate softly. Following the road, he spotted an old house to the right, with a sign in front:

_Doc Anderson. Caps up front. No exceptions._

‘Having someone with medical knowledge would be a great benefit to Sanctuary’ he thought to himself.

He decided that they had already wasted enough of the day however, and made a mental note to check back on his return journey. He swiped to the map screen on his Pip-Boy and added the location. Around the map, he saw a few smaller markers indicating settlements and places of interest, not that he had ventured out into the Commonwealth much. Sanctuary was enough for him. Had been enough for him. He wasn’t sure what he wanted anymore.

Again, he shook the thoughts from his mind and continued south.

Ahead of them, in the middle of the road, there was a derailed train car on its side. On either side, Marcus could see the other train cars strewn about the landscape, some even jutting out from the ground like giant metal teeth fixed in a crooked grin. His mind took him back to when he flew over this very spot. Back then, he was coming home on shore leave, and he remembered the fields stretching out and the trees climbing high above the houses. Everything was so green. So full of life. So peaceful.

A distant explosion brought him back to reality and he sighed at what the world had become.

‘Sir, are you alright?’ Codsworth hovered next to him, his eye lenses whirring slightly as they focused on his face.

 ‘I’m fine Codsworth,’ he sighed. ‘Just a bit tired.’

‘We’ve only been walking for a few hours but perhaps you’re right. A break might be in order.’

Marcus shook his head.

‘No. We keep moving,’ he said, looking up at the sky, his gloved hand shielding his eyes from the harsh glare of the sun. ‘We’ve still got a few hours of light left. We should be able to make it to Cambridge.’

His hand instinctively reached for his pocket and his fingers traced the edges of the holotag Haylen had given him.

‘Great,’ he thought, moving at a steady pace towards the train car. ‘Another habit.’

Reaching the train car, the pair soon found a way around. Codsworth hovered with ease around the narrow gap, whilst Marcus had to inch his way through, careful not to fall down the steep slope to the left. At the base of the slope there was another road, which led to Lexington. Marcus had been there in his old life, before he was Marcus, but had no need to go there since.

Travelling merchants and talkative members of the Brotherhood however, told him that Lexington was a place best left off the map. Taken over by raiders, feral ghouls, and god knows what else, it was a constant warzone. He could hear the whooping of raiders even from such a distance away and his stomach turned. He knew that anything that meant the raiders were celebrating was sure to be bad news. He could feel the bile rising to the back of his throat.

‘Come on Codsworth.’

Having avoided the train car, they followed the road, bypassing Lexington completely. The old Corvega plant loomed before them as they reached another old overpass. Marcus had just been enveloped by the shadow of the crumbling highway when a loud whirring began.

Recognising the sound, Marcus dove to nearby cover – an old rusted cargo container.

‘DOWN!’ he shouted, just as the first beams hit the ground beside him.

A barrage of laser fire thudded against the container, the maelstrom of sound reverberating loudly. Codsworth began hovering erratically, heading to the cargo container where Marcus had hunkered down, his jacket back on and Reason unslung and held ready.

‘I believe someone’s firing at us, Sir!’ shouted Codsworth over the growing din.

‘Thanks Codsworth, you’ll tell me if they hit us won’t you?’

Suddenly, the barrage stopped and the dust slowly settled around the pair. Marcus took the opportunity and positioned himself to look over the small concrete barrier beside the cargo container. Through his scope, he could see a man standing atop a bombed out house. His combat armor was almost black with filth and in his hands, he held a gatling laser. As he watched, the man called out, his shouts reaching Marcus faintly.

‘You gon’ made my babies mad now, boy!’ Marcus fell back behind the low wall, expecting another attack. But none came.

The silence continued for a moment before he heard a scuttling growing louder. Peeking over the wall, he saw a group of large radroaches scurrying towards them, covering the ground with incredible speed. He counted five of them. Three were average sized and scurried behind the other two at a normal pace. The other two were hard to miss. Glowing a sickly shade of green, they were larger than any radroach he had seen before. They were also gaining on his position at an alarming rate.

Lifting Reason over the wall, he steadied the rifle and fired a shot, hitting one of the smaller radroaches square in the head, sending small fragments of bloody carapace flying out in all directions. The man began to scream loudly, babbling a string of curses incoherently as the gatling laser began to whir once more. Marcus ducked down behind the wall and crawled back to the cargo container, the impact of the lasers hitting the wall showering him in dust and debris.

As the remaining radroaches reached the wall, one peeled away from the group and headed straight for the cargo container, its mandibles clacking loudly. Marcus cursed as he saw the green glow creeping along the sides of the container and scrambled back, cornering himself inside as he drew his pistol.

Outside he could hear Codsworth cry triumphantly as his sawblades made short work of the remaining bugs but his focus was on the giant glowing monstrosity slowly slinking into view at the entrance to the cargo container.

He began to fire, shot after shot ricocheting off the armoured shell of the creature as it began scurrying towards him. As the last shot rang out and his magazine was empty, the creature was upon him, screeching in pain as its irradiated blood began spurting from its neck. Its mandibles began clacking wildly as its death throes overwhelmed Marcus. As quickly as they had begun however, they ended, and an eerie silence descended.

Pushing aside the dead radroach, he reloaded and holstered his pistol. He picked up Reason and slowly edged his way outside. Two radroaches lay dead by Codsworth, their shells no match for his titanium sawblades. The remaining glowing radroach had begun to tire and its movements became slow and cumbersome. As the sawblade came down, it didn’t even try to move and was sliced in two by the sheer force of the attack.

The man in the house screamed as he saw his final pet fall, and began firing once again. A stray laser caught Codsworth and sent one of his eyes flying away in a shower of sparks. As Codsworth began to hover erratically again, the man cheered, revelling in his newfound accuracy.

Taking the opportunity as it arose, Marcus steadied Reason and exhaled deeply as he squeezed the trigger. Time seemed to slow down as the bullet flew through the air, striking the man just above the right eyebrow and plastering the wall behind him with gore.

Realising how exhausted he was, Marcus sunk down and sat for a moment as his breathing returned to normal. As his heartbeat slowed, he got up and checked on Codsworth, noting that the laser had melted the eye joint, making a clean cut. It wouldn’t be too difficult to repair but he didn’t have the tools or materials at hand. He knew the Cambridge outpost would be sure to have the supplies they needed and, gathering everything once again, continued on.

They passed the bombed out house and Marcus took a moment to investigate. The smell was atrocious and he guessed that the man had kept the radroaches as pets with him. There was heavy graffiti all over the words but two words had been scribbled in a childish script across the top:

_Regi’s Roaches_

Marcus checked Regi’s body and took whatever he could find. A few caps, some stimpaks, and a small pack of RadAway. He decided that the gatling laser would be too heavy to carry all the way to Diamond City; even carrying it to Cambridge would be an ordeal. He took the fusion core powering it and found two spare cores in a small crate by the threadbare mattress in the corner of the house.

Finding nothing else, they decided to head out and hoped to reach Cambridge by nightfall. The walk was uneventful and Marcus, remembering Haylen’s advice, was able to bypass the feral-infested College Square. Reaching the Cambridge outpost, they were initially greeted with cold resistance, but Marcus presented the Brotherhood scout on duty with the holotag from Haylen.

‘I have to remember to thank her when I get back’ he thought as he entered the compound.

The knights eyed both him and Codsworth suspiciously but they were willing enough to trade and allow him use of their tools and materials as long as he had enough caps for the privilege. Trading away the spare fusion cores he acquired from Regi’s house, he had more than enough caps to repair Codsworth and bought some more ammo before switching Codsworth to a low power state. Asking around, he found no answers about the mysterious Kellogg and eventually grew tired. Paying a few caps for a bed, he dropped onto the rough mattress in exhaustion and was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* * *

Waking up early, he was surprised at how quiet the outpost was. He knew the Brotherhood forces were spread thin across the Commonwealth, but he had only seen a handful of knights and only the field scribes and scouts were defending the exterior on rotation. He noted the fact and checked on Codsworth. After a short session to calibrate the new eye alongside the others, he was happy with the repairs.

They took their supplies and left with only a few nods to acknowledge their departure. Taking the advice he had received the night before from a particularly talkative knight, Marcus headed down the south road until the pair reached a bridge. The knight had warned him about the raiders who had taken residence in an old wreck trapped in the middle of the bridge. With Reason at hand, he scoped the area.

A small rusted tugboat had been unfortunate to become trapped as the bridge came down, snapping the topmost cabin and holding the entire boat in place. He could see a series of makeshift walkways connecting the bridge and boat, leading to a barge downriver. Movement caught his eye and through the scope, he counted three raiders on patrol. One had an attack dog and was sitting on a plastic chair, miserable carving something in his hand with a switchblade. Marcus knew he could take the dog and the three raiders quick enough to avoid any alarm, but he didn’t know how many others were around.

The appearance of a large raider in improvised power armour sealed his decision and he strapped Reason to his back and walked away from the boat. Going around the bridge, he walked down to the bank and surveyed the river. It would be a short swim but he knew well enough to watch for mirelurks – even the small river by Sanctuary sometimes had to be cleared out.

‘Sir, you aren’t thinking about _swimming_ in that, are you?’ asked Codsworth, his eye lenses narrowing slightly.

Marcus just laughed and took a small pill – white and red – and popped it into his mouth, swallowing it with a quick swig from his canteen.

‘RadX should hold me for a while,’ he said, a smile appearing. ‘And _you_ can just float over!’

With that, he climbed into the river, making sure to keep Reason above the water. The swim was short but the cold had seeped into his bones, making him shiver as he clambered onto the bank opposite. Codsworth floated over the water with ease and hovered beside him, waiting to carry on their journey.

With Reason once again at hand, Marcus did a quick sweep of the bridge through his scope and, finding nothing out of the ordinary, continued on. He deftly climbed over the concrete railings and up the stairs. With a final glance at the boat, they set off down the south road once again.

As they made their way down the avenue, Marcus watched the buildings like a hawk, Reason ready and waiting in his hands. He had always hated how vulnerable these narrow streets made him feel. Even when he had come home from the war, he had expected enemy soldiers to be on every rooftop and jump out of every door.

A small grin played across his face as he realised how right his suspicions could be in this new world of raiders, mercenaries, and mutated creatures.

They had reached the edge of the city and began to walk around to the entrance when he realised something was amiss. The knights had told him to look out for the guards stationed at the end of the street but looking around, he saw no-one.

A sudden explosion followed by the staccato sound of gunfire caught his attention. They were close by.

Without thinking, he raced towards the sound, Codsworth following as quick as his thrusters allowed. As he neared, the sounds grew louder. The gunfire was joined by shouting and cursing, all of which were drowned out as a familiar howl rang out, sending a shiver down Marcus’ spine.

‘Mutant hound,’ he thought, dreading the battle to come. ‘That means the muties won’t be too far behind.’

He rounded a corner and took in the scene at a glance.

Three hulking super mutants had entrenched themselves in a nearby building and, with the advantageous position, were holding off a group of armed survivors. By their armour and distinctive helmets, Marcus recognised them as Diamond City guards. A mutant hound lay dead close to the building where the super mutants held their ground and the other, the one he must have heard howling, was barrelling towards the guards as they retreated, firing shots inaccurately as the panic set in.

Raising Reason, he focused his scope on the hound as it swiped at the legs of a guard, bringing him down. He fired just as the creature was about to finish off the guard, and its mouth snapped shut as the bullet found its way through its neck, burying itself in the wall behind.

The guard watched helplessly as Marcus turned his aim to the building and fired off a series of shots, each one finding its mark. Seeing the super mutant fall, the guards rallied once more and in a hail of bullets, and a few well-placed shots from Reason, they made quick work of the two remaining mutants.

As the dust settled, the guards gathered around Marcus and commented on his superb marksmanship skills. Codsworth arrived a second later and, ignoring the dead mutants, was eager to set off as soon as possible. The pair made their leave but were stopped by the guard who had been pinned by the mutant hound.

‘Thank you,’ he said, his voice thin and reedy. ‘You… you’re the sniper of Sanctuary, aren’t you?’

Marcus laughed and patted the boy on the back.

‘I like that,’ he said. ‘The sniper of Sanctuary. Has a nice ring to it.’

He left the young guard and made his way down the path. Following the signs, the pair finally reached the entrance – a large makeshift cover open high above the long tunnel into the city itself.

‘Well,’ he said, turning to Codsworth with a small smile. ‘We made it. Diamond City.’

‘Indeed sir,’ came the reply, Codsworth zipping along the tunnel at a speedy pace. He turned around, his eye lenses wide. ‘Are you coming, Mr Howard?’

Marcus followed the robot through the dark tunnel and soon disappeared from sight, enveloped by the deep shadows.


	5. The Great Green Jewel

‘So this is the famous Diamond City,’ said Codsworth as he hovered on the entrance walkway, taking in the sight before him. ‘I suppose I hoped to find more of a gem than a dusty home base. Civilisation _in the rough_ , if you will!’ he added, laughing softly at his own joke.

Codsworth remained unimpressed as he hovered towards the marketplace ahead. Marcus however, merely stood on the walkway, awe-struck by the size of the settlement.

The stadium opened up before them, stretching far in every direction. Everywhere Marcus looked he saw makeshift shacks and buildings crafted from equal parts corrugated metal and concrete. People milled around the market, examining the wares from each stall at a leisurely pace. For a moment, Marcus was reminded of the old world and images flashed into his mind. Memories of treading the cobbled streets of Downtown Boston, and entering shop after shop, each one full of people.

‘Everyone was so happy back then’ he thought as he watched the people in the market shuffle about with dull, weary eyes.

The sights and sounds overwhelmed him for a moment and he found himself gripping the handrail tightly to keep his balance. Gradually, his composure came back to him and he saw that Codsworth was waiting patiently at the end of the walkway.

‘Are you alright, Sir?’ he asked quietly as Marcus approached.

Marcus nodded in response, and Codsworth, seemingly satisfied with the answer, carried on towards the market.

They passed a young man in a faded varsity jacket, calling to passers-by from his shaded stall. Beside him was an old barber’s chair, the red leather starting to fade and peel away from the wood beneath. They continued on and walked passed the large circular noodle stand in the centre of the market. Marcus watched absent-mindedly as the robot waiter heaped bowls of steaming noodles with incredible speed and precision, sending each bowl sliding along the table to the hungry diners. His thoughts were interrupted by a man shouting from beside him.

‘Hey! Swatter! Swatter! Swatter! Swatter! Swing swatter!’

He turned to find a middle-aged man dressed in full baseball attire, swinging an aluminium bat dramatically to the wonder of the small crowd of children around him. Marcus caught his eye and the man quickly shooed away the children, beckoning for Marcus to come closer. As he approached, Marcus noticed a wolfish gleam to the man’s eyes and instantly distrusted him, but in the interest of finding information, he continued on.

‘If you’re here, you must be lookin’ to buy a swatter! Am I right?!’ the man yelled, despite the short distance between them.

His loud style of selling began to annoy Marcus and he wished he had gone over to one of the other, quieter, vendors.

‘Actually, I’m here for information,’ said Marcus, watching as the man’s smile faltered slightly. ‘I’m looking for someone. Know anyone who can point me in the right direction?’

The man chewed his lip before answering.

‘I don’t know about that, maybe you could talk to the mayor?’ The man glanced up at him, smiling again. ‘But since you’re here, how’s about going home with a genuine swatter!’

‘No,’ he said sharply before realising. ‘Thank you. Look, there’s been a kidnapping. This guy I’m trying to-‘

Marcus stopped as he saw the expression on the man’s face. The smile had gone completely and there was a look of horror in its place. Before he could question it however, the man spoke.

‘No, I can’t help you,’ he whispered, shooting furtive glances around the market. ‘Beat it!’

Before Marcus could stop him, the man gathered his things and pushed past him, bolting out of the market, towards another part of town.

‘What on earth was _that_ all about?’ asked Codsworth, hovering over from beside the noodle stand.

Marcus simply shook his head as they went over to the next stall. This stall had a sign painted onto the corrugated metal sheet above. Two rifles stood beside the flag of the United States of America, the 13 stars each representing a separate commonwealth. Marcus smiled as he read the name of the store.

_Commonwealth Weaponry_.

‘Fitting’ he thought as he turned his attention to the man behind the table.

The man was quite young and had a thin, wiry physique. He was quite small and sported a thin pencil moustache, accentuating the deep tan of his face. Marcus watched as the man wiped the table with an old rag before laying down a few weapons. Pistols and rifles covered the small table and he was impressed to see a good variety of other tools to maintain them stacked in a neat pile nearby.

As the pair approached the table, the man looked up.

‘Hey,’ he said, a childish grin growing. ‘You’re the new guy, right?’

‘The new guy?’ asked Marcus, unsure of what he meant.

‘Word kind of travels fast in Diamond City,’ he said, chuckling quietly to himself. ‘What can I say?’

He picked up a pistol and checked the grip with an expert eye, flipping the heavy revolver around with ease.

‘Name’s Arturo Rodriguez,’ he said, holding out the pistol, the grin still on his face. ‘If you need protection, let’s talk.’

Marcus decided to take him up on the offer and began inspecting some of the weapons on display. Nothing caught his eye until he saw the grip of a laser pistol poking out from beneath the pile of tools on the floor beside Arturo. Arturo followed his gaze however, and picked up the pistol carefully, taking care not to displace the tools. He laid the pistol on the table fondly, allowing Marcus time to study it.

He could tell that the pistol had been heavily modified. The rusted metal had been replaced with black steel, giving the weapon a dull glow. The barrel had been extended and twisted slightly at the end. The final detail he noticed was an engraving on the side of the pistol, just above the trigger, in an elegant golden script:

_Old Faithful_

He decided that he had spent enough time browsing and purchased a small weapon maintenance kit before turning his attention to Arturo.

‘Actually I didn’t come here to buy,’ he said, noticing the instant change in Arturo’s demeanour. ‘I was looking for information about a missing-‘

‘Woah,’ he said, casting his gaze around the market. He lowered his voice and beckoned Marcus to follow him behind the table and into the store itself. It was a small space mostly filled with weapons and ammo, but the two of them stood with enough room to speak without fear of unwelcome ears.

‘Ah, look,’ he said, turning to Marcus with a sad smile. ‘I heard you talking to Moe earlier and I want to take care of my customers, but with all that talk about the Institute in the papers, I… I just can’t get involved in someone else’s problems, okay?’

Marcus saw the genuine emotion in Arturo’s eyes and nodded slowly, turning away to leave the stall. As he walked away towards the noodle stand, he realised how low the sun was as it began to disappear behind the upper stands.

Leaving Codsworth to roam around the market, he began to visit the other vendors to find the information he sought. He worked his way around the small marketplace, talking to each of the merchants in turn – Myrna, the synth-fearing owner of ‘Diamond City Surplus’, Solomon, the chem-pushing owner of ‘Chem-I-Care’, and Polly, the abrasive butcher and owner of ‘Choice Cuts’.

He became frustrated as they brushed off his question, each of them giving him the same nervous glances he saw from Arturo and Moe. As he left Polly and headed back to find Codsworth, he found his way blocked by two large guards, wearing their distinctive armour and holding their rifles threateningly.

‘We heard you been asking questions around town’ said one of them as they both moved forward, backing Marcus into a small alleyway between the shacks. ‘We don’t like people asking questions here.’

He backed up a few steps, his hands feeling the cold corrugated metal behind him. The guards stopped at the entrance to the alleyway.

‘Diamond City is a big place. Lotta room for someone to go… _missing_ ’ said the guard, letting the threat hang in the air for a moment. ‘If I was you, I’d get a room for the night over at the Bobrov’s place and be on my way first thing tomorrow. No telling what could happen otherwise.’

With his feeble attempt at subtlety over, the guard reached into his pocket and threw a handful of caps onto the ground at Marcus’ feet, before they both retreated in a manner Marcus was sure they thought was menacing.

But the threat was clear nonetheless.

Marcus left the caps on the ground and left the alleyway cautiously, looking around for any sign of danger. Finding nothing, he headed back to the market to find Codsworth.

* * *

Marcus exhaled slowly as he examined the steaming bowl of noodles on the table in front of him. Codsworth hovered alongside him, the light from the gigantic floodlights shimmering off the chrome shell as he ‘spoke’ to Takahashi, the malfunctioning serving robot.

‘This whole thing had been for nothing.’

The thought kept finding its way back to the front of his mind.

He had failed before his journey had even begun. What had he even been thinking? What was he trying to do? He had left behind his new life, the life he had worked so hard to create for himself, and for what?

‘You keep chasing a past that isn’t yours anymore’ he thought as he watched the steam from the bowl rise slowly and fade into the cool night air.

Two Diamond City guards walked past and Marcus remembered the threat he had received earlier that evening. One of the guards had mentioned getting a room for the night. As the cold breeze brushed past him, Marcus shivered and was forced to agree that a room for the night would be best.

As he got up to leave, he heard movement behind him. One hand on his pistol, he spun around, grabbing the edge of a jacket and pulling hard. The figure fell to the ground with a thud and as he unholstered his pistol, they began to shout.

‘Hey, whoa! Wait! Wait!’

The voice was undoubtedly feminine, causing Marcus to drop his pistol slightly to peer into the shadows. From the dim light, he could discern the vague outline of a young woman. Holstering his pistol, he hurriedly lifted her to her feet by the arm, his apologies soon devolving into a stream of nonsense as her face came into the light.

Her green eyes glittered as the light hit them, giving them a sharp, piercing quality. Her shoulder-length hair fell from her patchwork leather cap, resting delicately on the folds of her jacket. The smattering of freckles on her nose and cheeks were faint and accentuated the angular beauty of her face. He noticed that her lips were parted, moving rapidly, and as Marcus stepped back, he realised too late that she was speaking to him, only just catching the end of her sentence.

‘-And it’s almost impossible to get out!’

He stood there with a blank expression on his face as her brow furrowed.

‘Well?’ she said, placing her hands on her hips and fixing her gaze on Marcus.

‘Sorry,’ came his eventual reply. ‘Erm, sorry about pulling you down, Miss. I thought you were here to-‘

He stopped and his forehead wrinkled in confusion.

‘Actually, why were you sneaking up on me?’ he asked, noticing the blush beginning to creep onto her cheeks.

‘Well, I _was_ coming to tell you that I heard those guards earlier,’ she said, her face softening. Her gaze dropped to her feet for a moment. ‘Are you okay?’

He nodded in response, finally finding his footing in the conversation.

‘You shouldn’t take any notice of them anyway,’ she said. ‘They like to push their weight around now and again. I just give ‘em the old ‘Piper stare’.’

She fixed him with a mock-serious glare, narrowing her eyes and pursing her lips.

‘Piper,’ he said, extending his hand. ‘I’m Marcus.’

They shook hands and an awkward silence presented itself, the cool night air whistling through the streets around them. Marcus broke the tension.

‘You have much trouble with threats?’ he asked, the concern evident in his expression.

‘Not so much from the guards… anymore, that is,’ she said with a grin. ‘But in general, I suppose I get the odd one here and there. Never thought a reporter could consider themselves a success until someone threatened their life. Me? I’m very successful.’

She spoke with unerring confidence, impressing Marcus as he considered the change from the angry mud-caked girl only moments ago.

‘A reporter?’ he asked, remembering the newspaper stand he passed on his way into Diamond City. ‘Is that why you were spying on me?’

His grin brought another blush to her cheeks and she shuffled her feet nervously as she spoke.

‘Actually, I heard about you asking questions around the market too,’ she said. ‘Hey, word travels fast!’ she added in response to his raised eyebrow.

‘I’m trying to find a young boy. He was kidnapped and-‘

‘I knew it!’ Piper exclaimed, pointing a finger at the sky triumphantly. ‘McDonough must be trying to keep you quiet, but he didn’t bet on one thing. Me!’

She turned with a flourish, heading away from the noodle stand at a frightening pace. Codsworth, having finished conversing with Takahashi, moved beside Marcus.

‘Far be it from me to give _you_ an order Sir, but I think we should follow that girl,’ he said, the whirring of his eye lenses punctuating the sentence. ‘And it may be my new eye malfunctioning, but didn’t she look _exactly_ like-‘

‘Yeah,’ came the reply, interrupting Codsworth’s question. A moment passed before Marcus spoke again.

‘Let’s go then’ he said, sighing as the pair hurried after the young reporter and out of the cold.

* * *

The interior of Publick Occurrences should have been spacious but the clutter made the room a tight squeeze. Newspapers were stacked high, in some places almost reaching the ceiling, and two large printing presses stood before a low cinderblock wall. Codsworth found it difficult to navigate but managed to ease his way through, waiting at the low wall.

Marcus followed Piper through the maze of stacked newspapers, climbing a set of stairs as Codsworth opted to wait below. Upstairs, he saw two chairs sat in front of a desk with an old terminal on it. A small bed was in the corner of the cramped room and once again, Marcus noticed the clutter.

‘The paper mustn’t be doing too well if _this_ many copies are stuck here’ he thought, looking around the room.

‘Sorry about the mess,’ said Piper as she sat down on one of the chairs and began logging on to the terminal. ‘McDonough doesn’t want the truth getting out so he’s banned us from selling anymore.’

As she turned to him in her chair, her face lit up with a mischievous smile as she continued talking.

‘ _But_ if we just hand them out to everyone who walks by, no charge, he can’t touch us.’

‘Clever’ said Marcus, with genuine appreciation in his voice. Piper beamed as she finished setting up the terminal to record onto a holotape.

‘Okay, here’s the deal,’ she said. ‘I want your life story in print. I think it’s time Diamond City had a little outside perspective from the Commonwealth. Plus McDonough could use a reality check. He can’t deny _your_ story. So what do you say?’

‘What kind of interview is this going to be?’ he asked nervously, taking the chair opposite Piper.

‘I ask you who you are, get your opinion on life out there, and maybe load up a few tough questions and keep it interesting. Sound good?’

She had said she wanted his life story. But he couldn’t tell people the truth. He had seen the atrocities committed over pre-war tech, but for someone to be around from back then who wasn’t a ghoul. He’d be painting a target on himself for everyone to hone in on. The Brotherhood, Raiders, even the Institute.

He frowned slightly, his thoughts becoming too much.

‘All right, Piper,’ he said, fixing a plan in his head. ‘I’m in.’

‘Great! Okay, let’s start at the beginning,’ she said, turning the recorder on. ‘Where are you from?’

His mind searched for a reasonable answer when an image of Leopold, the scientist living in Sanctuary, flashed before him.

‘DC’ came his response, as Piper nodded, encouraging further exposition. He didn’t want to lie but he had to keep the truth hidden. Sighing, he began his tale. ‘I grew up in a small settlement just outside of Megaton. Life was hard but we got by. A few of us had gone to Megaton for a few days on a supply run when we received word that our settlement had been attacked. There were no survivors.’

Piper nodded sympathetically and he continued.

‘Anyway, it had been a few years and living at Megaton was getting harder and harder. I met Nora while she visited and it wasn’t even a year before we were married. We had a home and enough caps to get by. That’s when Shaun came along. I looked at him and I knew he deserved a better life than living in constant fear of another attack, so we decided to move away from the Capital Wasteland.’

Piper looked at him oddly, but remained silent, her attention solely on his story.

‘We had heard that the Commonwealth was a good place to live and we decided to take the chance. So we left Megaton behind and fell in with a caravan heading for Quincy. We had only just entered the Commonwealth when they attacked,’ he said, his pained expression genuine. ‘I don’t know who they were but they were quick. They knew exactly what they wanted and I… I was-‘

‘It’s okay,’ said Piper, leaning over to rest her hand on his shoulder. ‘That’s more than enough for the recording, we can move on.’

She paused the recording and began to type something on the terminal, giving Marcus a chance to regain his composure by the time she turned back around.

‘So, you’re not from around here. What’s it like seeing how things are in the Commonwealth? What’s it like seeing how people are living in Diamond City and the other settlements?’

‘Honestly, seeing everyone surviving out here? Rebuilding the world? It gives me hope.’

‘That’s… surprisingly inspired, Blue,’ she said, surprised by his optimism. ‘We’re definitely quoting that.’

She made a note on the terminal and was about to carry on with the interview when Marcus interrupted.

‘Wait… Blue?’ he said, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

An impish grin stretched across Piper’s face as she ignored the question and continued the interview.

‘Now, the big question. Why come to Diamond City? You’re looking for someone, aren’t you? Who is it?’

The scarred face of Kellogg appeared in his mind and he fought down the bile in his throat. A calmer image of a spinning mobile above a crib formed, and his reply, was soft and low.

‘My son, Shaun, was kidnapped. He wasn’t even a year old when they took him.’

Piper looked at him solemnly.

‘The parent after the missing child,’ she said, sighing. ‘As heart-breaking today as it ever was. Tell me, do you suspect the Institute is involved?’

Marcus had considered the possibility before. The Institute was the bogeyman of the Commonwealth. The shadowy organisation working behind the scenes, taking people and creating synths to infiltrate settlements. And after the attempt on his life in Sanctuary…

‘Sure sounds like they might be’ he said, working with the only lead he had.

‘Not even a baby is safe from them,’ said Piper, her eyes glancing to the small framed picture of a young girl on the bedside table. ‘And people wonder why I can’t just look the other way…’

Again, she turned to make brief notes on the terminal before continuing.

‘For the last part of the interview, I’d like to do something different. I want you to make a statement to Diamond City directly,’ she said, the fire in her eyes growing. ‘The threat of kidnapping is all but ignored in the Commonwealth. Everyone wants to pretend it doesn’t happen. What would you say to someone out there who’s lost a loved one, but might be too scared, or too numb to the world to look for them?’

Marcus thought about himself. About how he had become ‘numb to the world’ and ignored his responsibilities. How he had just thrown away his old life to start again in Sanctuary. The question lingered in his mind for a moment before he gave his answer, as much to himself as to Piper.

‘No matter how much you want to give up, don’t. You have to have hope. That you’ll see them again. Or at least, that you’ll know the truth.’

Piper considered the answer before replying.

‘A strong note to end on, Blue,’ she said softly. ‘Thanks.’

For a final time, she made a note on the terminal, before turning off the recording and taking out the holotape. She put it on a pile of similar holotapes in a tray labelled in large black letters:

_Write up later!!_

‘That’s everything,’ she said, turning to him as he stood. ‘It’s going to take some time to put this all together, but I think your story is going to give Diamond City a lot to talk about.’

She shuffled her feet nervously, looking at the floor.

‘Look, about your son,’ she said. ‘I didn’t know if you were on the up-and-up before, didn’t want to waste my friend’s time, but I think he can help you. His name’s Nick Valentine, detective extraordinaire. He’s got an office here and I heard he’s back in town.’

She sat on the bed and began to take off her boots, slowly untying the laces.

‘Just look for the neon sign with the heart in it’ she added, taking an inordinate amount of time on the first knot.

‘Piper, do you want to-‘

Before he had finished, she had dropped the pretence of untying her laces and was rushing to the stairs.

‘Well,’ she said, turning back to him. ‘Don’t just stand there!’

She winked and began climbing down the stairs with Marcus following a few steps behind her.

* * *

The walk to the detective agency was peaceful, taking longer than expected from the short distance. The night had grown cold and both Piper and Marcus clutched their jackets to their bodies tightly, trying to keep warm. There was a calmness over the city, with the lights illuminating the path through to their destination.

Codsworth had elected to stay back at Publick Occurrences to watch over the sleeping Nat – ‘Putting the old childcare subroutines to good use’ as he put it. Marcus walked slowly along the winding ‘streets’ of Diamond City, with Piper a few paces ahead and a large gibbous moon overhead. He marvelled at how beautiful the night was; even in such a broken world. Piper seemed to silently share his sentiment, walking leisurely ahead to enjoy the cool air.

‘So you think this Nick Valentine can find Shaun?’ said Marcus in an almost absent-minded tone.

Piper slowed slightly, allowing Marcus to catch up, before walking alongside him.

‘Yeah,’ she said, her tone matching his. ‘People don’t like talking about him, part of the whole ‘head in the sand mind-set Diamond City is famous for. But when you’re down on your luck, and no-one else is going to give you a hand? He’s always there.’

Their conversation faded and they drifted into a comfortable silence before the neon sign Piper mentioned came into view. The detective agency lay ahead and Marcus took a moment to savour the night air before entering after Piper.

* * *

‘Kellogg, eh?’ came the distinctive voice of Nick Valentine as the holotape finished playing. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his yellow eyes slowly opened and closed, focusing on the name.

Marcus sat at the desk, opposite Nick, with Piper in the chair beside him. As he had entered the small room, his hand reflexively went to his holster at the sight of Nick, until Piper lay her hand on his arm and told him to relax. Piper had warned him just before entering that Nick was ‘different’ but he had never expected a synth.

He watched closely, examining the rough, textured face of the synth detective. In his faded trench coat and battered fedora, Nick reminded him of a detective from the old noir radio shows, but the rest was far from what he had imagined in those halcyon days sitting in front of the radio. His face was normal enough from a distance but on closer inspection, the artifice became clear. There was a large jagged gash running from his left temple down past his neck, exposing the circuitry and metal frame of his jaw and spinal cord. Marcus could see the wrinkles appearing on Nick’s forehead as he frowned in an incredible facsimile of contemplation; as realistic as the emotion he had seen from Cynthia.

He eyed the detective warily, keeping one hand close to his holster, but remembering Piper’s advice. Nick shuddered back to life, opening his eyes wide and standing. He walked over to a large file cabinet and began rifling through them before taking out a thin file. As he walked back to put the file on the desk, Marcus noticed a pronounced limp in his gait. Piper seemed to notice as well, taking the opportunity to talk to Nick as Marcus opened the file and began to read.

‘Skinny Malone give you much trouble?’ she asked, gesturing to his leg.

‘No,’ he said, waving away her question with a smile. ‘ _He_ was fine, but that gang of his made it pretty hard to leave, believe me.’

‘But nothing can keep Nicky Valentine, detective extraordinaire down, can it?’ she said with a toothy grin.

He winked in reply and they both turned to Marcus expectantly.

‘Anything?’ asked Nick hopefully.

Marcus shook his head. There was nothing in the file that they didn’t already know. All it contained was a brief physical description and a copy of the documentation used when Kellogg purchased a house in Diamond City, along with numerous ‘unsolved’ case files fitting his MO. There was also a blurry photograph of the man, taken from some distance away, but Marcus could never forget that face. It was burned into his memory along with the day he had taken everything from him.

‘It’s definitely him,’ he said, his eyes fixed on the picture. ‘I’m sure.’

Nick stroked his chin thoughtfully.

‘There’s got to be something we’re missing here,’ he said. ‘Play the tape again.’

Marcus pressed play and they sat and listened to the gruff voice for what felt like the millionth time. Halfway through the recording however, Nick opened his eyes and began mouthing something, muttering softly under his breath. He went over to the large map of the Commonwealth hanging on the wall and Piper and Marcus followed. They watched as he grabbed a red drawing pin and placed it into a marker on the map.

‘Fort Hagen,’ he said, staring at the pin. ‘If I was a psychopathic mercenary trying to hide a group of synths, that’s where I’d be.’

They all looked at the map, noting the journey. The fort was west of Diamond City and a lot closer than Sanctuary, but the areas between were blank and unexplored.

‘We should get some rest,’ said Nick, turning to them. ‘Tomorrow we can prepare our gear and plan the route.’

Piper and Marcus exchanged a quick glance.

‘We… already have one rustbucket coming with us,’ said Piper slowly, her smile growing. ‘You should probably rest up Nicky’ she added, more softly this time.

‘Kellogg is a very dangerous man,’ said Nick. ‘And when the synths he sent to kill you don’t report back, he’ll be expecting you. Now, I don’t know how confident you are about fighting a small army of synths, but the way I see it, you’re going to need my help.’

‘It’s not that we don’t appreciate the offer,’ said Marcus. ‘It’s just that… well-‘

He began to falter but Piper picked up his sentence.

‘It’s just that you’re in no condition to travel,’ she said. ‘Look, we’ll be fine. I promise.’

They stood in silence for a moment before Nick spoke.

‘I don’t like it,’ he said, sighing. ‘But you’re right. We should all get some rest though. I can still help you prepare tomorrow.’

On that they all agreed and the pair bade farewell to the detective, walking back out into the calm night air as he shut the door behind them.

* * *

Marcus waited by Arturo’s stall, watching as the guards changed their patrols. With a grimace, he shifted position, leaning against the wall. He had woken early and headed out before anyone else was awake. He had slept on the sofa downstairs in Publick Occurrences and as comfortable as it was, he found himself missing his bed in Sanctuary.

He took the little time he had to enjoy the hazy morning sun before the vendors began to set up. Not long after, the first appeared, he heard the door click and watched as Arturo walked out, carrying boxes of weapons. After he had helped Arturo carry out his wares and set up his stall, he unslung Reason from his back and gave Arturo his instructions, telling him to have it ready for the next morning with a look that could give a deathclaw pause. Arturo nodded hurriedly and got to work straight away as Marcus went back to Publick Occurrences with his purchased ammunition and other supplies from the market.

Piper was talking to Codsworth as he entered and a soft snoring emanated from behind the low cinderblock wall. After a short time, Nick arrived, bringing a selection of files and maps with him. Piper woke Nat, who went outside to hand out copies of the newspaper. The rest of the day was spent hunched over the table with Nick briefing them on all manner of things – from Kellogg, synths, and the Institute, to the route through the Commonwealth he had planned for them.

As the day wore on, and they found that they had exhausted their topics of conversation, Nick went back to the agency, offering them luck for the mission ahead. Marcus watched through the small window as Nick walked the narrow streets of Diamond City, and realised that it was later than he thought as the lights began to turn on.

Piper walked in and sat on the sofa opposite him.

‘Codsworth is charging upstairs and Nat’s already asleep,’ she said, stretching out languorously. ‘We should really get some rest too if we want to get going early.’

Marcus looked at her closely for a moment, staring intently as her piercing green eyes did the same.

‘Why do you want to come with me tomorrow?’ he asked slowly, careful not to cause any offence.

‘I’m not sure,’ she replied, shrugging her shoulders. ‘I get the feeling that wherever you go, a good story can’t be far behind.’

He smiled but wasn’t ready to let the matter rest.

‘Look, this is my fight. I appreciate all the help you’ve given me but this is something I have to do alone. I know that-‘

‘No,’ she said flatly, a small smile playing on her lips. She began to laugh quietly at the dumbstruck expression on his face. ‘You’re not going to change my mind either so don’t bother trying.’

He opened his mouth to argue but it clamped shut from a raised eyebrow from Piper. She nodded and stood up, walking to the stairs as Marcus lay down. She stopped as her hand reached for the rail and turned.

‘You don’t have to worry about me, you know,’ she said. ‘I can take care of myself.’

She winked and left him with a beaming smile.

‘Good night Marcus’ she said as she climbed the stairs.

He watched her reach the top and disappear from view as she entered her room.

‘Good night Piper’ he whispered to the room.

He remembered her gaze as she stared at him. A look he had seen before in a life that was no longer his.

‘The great green jewel,’ he thought, smiling as he closed his eyes and drifted away.


	6. Heading to Hagen

Marcus awoke to the fragile sound of birdsong and for a moment, found himself transported back to a simpler time. His senses soon returned to him however, and he recognised the cluttered interior of Publick Occurrences. Yawning softly as he stretched, he looked out of the small window and admired the amber glow of pre-dawn. He walked over to the door and instinctively reached for his shoulder sling to adjust Reason, but found nothing but air. A jolt of panic shot through him before he remembered he had given the rifle to Arturo the day before.

Smiling at his folly, he left Publick Occurrences, closing the door slowly so as not to wake up Piper or Nat. He took a brisk walk down to the market, noting the looks of the guards as he passed. He was glad to be leaving soon, the extra day he had spent in Diamond City had felt like he was tempting fate. With the guard’s threat still fresh in his mind, he knew he had to leave.

‘The sooner, the better’ he thought as two guards walked past him, their eyes burrowing into his own. Despite Piper’s constant assurances of the empty threat, he still felt a growing tension in Diamond City. There was an air of mistrust about the place which had seemed to infect most of the residents.

The market, as he had suspected, was empty. None of the stalls were set up and no residents were in sight, apart from a dishevelled beggar sat outside of Commonwealth Weaponry. Marcus looked at the man for a moment before stepping forward. Reaching into his satchel, he knelt down and offered the man a bottle of purified water. It took a few seconds for the man to notice and he lifted his head to look at Marcus.

‘Nu-‘ he began, his parched throat causing his voice to crack, sending him into a violent fit of coughing. Wiping the spittle from his beard, the man began again. ‘Nuka… Nuka Cola. Please…’

He stared pleadingly at Marcus before dropping his head, becoming numb to the world once again. Marcus frowned and got back to his feet, putting away the bottle of water. The man was clearly an addict. His skin was pocked and sallow, giving him a complexion similar to that of a ghoul. His wispy hair had also become coarse and matted, clinging to his chin, cheeks, and scalp.

‘He probably needs the caffeine to stay focused’ thought Marcus as he watched man’s head loll and his eyes glaze over.

Walking over to the noodle stand, he caught the attention of the protectron behind the counter.

‘Nan-ni shimasho-ka?’ came the mechanical voice of the robot. 

From the tone, Marcus could tell that it was asking a question, but what it meant was a mystery. A voice from beside him spoke.

‘Just answer yes,’ said the man as Marcus turned to face him. The man smiled as he noted the puzzled expression on Marcus’ face. He gestured to the protectron. ‘It’s all he understands anyway.’

Marcus nodded his thanks and noticed the residents that had begun milling about the marketplace, awaiting the arrival of the vendors. He turned back to the protectron.

‘Yes?’ he said nervously, his tone making the word sound like a question. 

The robot seemed unperturbed by this however, and produced a menu from his inner compartment, laying it on the table in front of Marcus with lightning speed. The grubby piece of paper had only 3 words:

_ ‘Noodles – Ten (10) Caps’ _

Marcus looked at the paper with a confused expression, turning it over and back again, finding nothing but noodles.

‘Erm… Nuka Cola?’ he asked tentatively, worried that the robot wouldn’t understand.

The protectron was silent but Marcus could hear the processors whir inside its metal body. In a flash, one of its arms shot out and grabbed a bottle of Nuka Cola from the fridge behind it, depositing it on the table with its clawed appendage.

‘Nan-ni shimasho-ka?’ it said, as still as ever.

‘Yeah,’ said Marcus. ‘Thanks.’

He went to take the bottle, but the protectron’s arm extended, blocking his path. He realised what it was waiting for and placed 10 caps into its outstretched claw. After a cursory beeping from the head as it counted the caps, the arm retracted and Marcus took the bottle. He walked back over to the vagrant, twisting off the cap, and knelt down to offer it. It took a few seconds for the man to notice him again but when he did, his eyes shone. He looked at the bottle of Nuka Cola as if it was the most valuable thing in the world before taking it slowly with trembling hands.

As the man sipped the cool liquid, a voice spoke from the stall beside Marcus.

‘That’s a nice thing you’ve done there.’ 

He turned to see the beaming face of Arturo looking down at him from the stall.

‘Arturo,’ he said, standing and approaching the weapons stall. ‘It’s good to see you again.’

He flashed a smile and shook Arturo’s hand, his eyes darting to the cloth-wrapped bundle behind him.

‘I see you’re eager to see it’ said Arturo, chuckling. 

He grabbed the bundle and placed it gently onto the table before Marcus. As he unwrapped it, Marcus could see the twisted barrel ending in a custom silencer. The scope had been similarly modified, with a lens adjuster enabling multiple zoom levels. The handle had been inlaid with a deep chestnut wood, polished and brushed to accentuate the angular beauty of the rifle. The bolt had received a smooth chrome finish to contrast the matte black of the rifle and there was a tripod attachment underneath the barrel.

‘You like it?’ asked Arturo.

Marcus picked up the rifle and nodded, whistling his approval. He turned it over in his hands and eyed the scope, admiring the way it was still perfectly balanced. His hand moved over something odd and as he turned the rifle to look, his eyes widened with joy.

On the stock, engraved with the same fine gold writing he had seen on Arturo’s weapon, was a single word:

_ Reason _

The engraving seemed to glow slightly but never catch the light. Arturo answered Marcus’ confused expression before he asked the question.

‘Gold paint mixed with glowing one blood. Gives it a nice sheen’ he said, winking.

‘It’s perfect,’ said Marcus, as he took a small bag of caps from his satchel and handed it to Arturo. ‘Thank you.’

Arturo held up his hand however, and waved the bag away. Taken aback, Marcus watched as Arturo reached down under the stall and place a small box of ammunition onto the table.

‘.50 Cal,’ he said, grinning. ‘You’re gonna need ‘em now. .308 won’t do much anymore.’

Marcus held the box and the bag of caps with a confused expression. He had paid for the customisation and engraving, the ammo he hadn’t been expecting.

Again, Arturo answered the unasked question.

‘I’ve seen you around Marcus, helping people,’ he said, gesturing to the vagrant still sipping the bottle of Nuka Cola. ‘You’re a good man. And I’ve seen you buying supplies too. You’re planning something.’

Arturo flashed his signature grin before continuing.

‘Don’t worry, I’m not asking any questions. I just wanted to give you a little something extra as my way of saying good luck.’

Arturo extended his hand and Marcus gripped it. As they shook hands, Marcus wondered at the trust this man, who he had met only the day before, was showing him. The pair exchanged a fond farewell before Marcus decided it was time to head back to Publick Occurrences and set off, putting Reason back into the bundle of cloth and hefting it onto his sling.

Leaving the market, he passed by the small church and saw the Pastor addressing a small crowd of people. He was a small man but his voice carried far, possessing a deep, resonant quality which demanded attention. His skin was covered in pink blotches, giving his face a somewhat mottled appearance, but his confidence was what drew Marcus’ eye. He lingered for a moment before moving on, able to hear each word of the Pastor’s sermon as he walked away.

On the walkway to the upper stands, a pair of guards stood, watching Marcus as he reached Publick Occurrences. Their hands were resting on their assault rifles and they both stood menacingly. Marcus returned their stares before entering.

He grinned and suppressed a laugh as he beheld the sight before him. As Piper scurried about the small room, collecting supplies for their trip, Codsworth tailed her closely, making sure to give his ‘advice’ regarding her poor organisational skills.

‘Miss Piper, you _really_ should fold that,’ he said, gesturing to the bundled coat Piper was stuffing into her satchel. ‘The creases will be a nightmare to get rid of. I mean, honestly, what _will_ the neighbours think?’

‘I’ve told you already, ya bucket of bolts,’ she exclaimed, making sure the last bit of her coat was inside the satchel before laying it on the table alongside the other provisions. ‘There are worse things to worry about out there than a few creases!’

‘Not to me, there aren’t,’ he said, bobbing his metal shell in a gesture similar to a proud nod. ‘Come now, Miss Piper, at least compromise. What about the-‘

Before Codsworth could finish however, Piper scurried upstairs to gather more supplies. Without a word, he moved over to the table and began to unpack the red leather coat from Piper’s satchel as Marcus watched. He began folding the coat and placed it neatly alongside a small box of ammo just as Piper appeared at the base of the stairs.

‘Oh for the love of…! What are you _doing_?’

‘Miss Piper, I was just making sure that you follow adequate organisational procedures and-‘

‘Listen, Chrome Dome,’ she said, picking up the coat and unfolding it. ‘I’m pretty sure some raider scum is gonna be too busy trying to blow off our heads to notice a ketchup stain on my lapel!’

She thrust her arms into the coat-sleeves and wore the coat defiantly. The argument continued as both Piper and Codsworth grabbed the satchel, tugging at the handles. Neither of them gave in and eventually the satchel tore apart, sending Piper flying backwards onto the floor and items all over the room.

A sock, pink with white daisies on it, flew through the air and lodged itself behind Codsworth’s eyestalk. Marcus’ grin widened as he and Piper exchanged knowing glances. Codsworth sighed deeply as  he hovered towards Marcus, his tolerance chip seemingly fried.

‘Try to talk some sense into her, Sir,’ he said wearily, opening the door to Diamond City. ‘I’ll be at the marketplace if you need me. I might have better luck trying to get through to Takahashi.’

And with that last remark, Marcus watched as he closed the door behind him and drifted towards the market, the pink sock flopping as he swiveled. Piper looked at him with a stern expression on her face as he grinned, holding back a laugh.

‘Don’t,’ she said, narrowing her eyes, a grin hiding behind clenched teeth. ‘Just don’t.’

He couldn’t hold it in any longer and a deep laugh exploded from him. Her mock-serious expression disappeared and she couldn’t help but join him. Before they knew it, they both had tears streaming down their faces and were gasping for air.

Marcus reached down and offered a hand to Piper, both of them now laughing at the fact that it was the second time Marcus had helped her up from the ground in as many days. 

‘I better clean things up here,’ she said, looking at the items strewn about the floor. ‘You should probably head to the market and fetch Socksworth.’

Chuckling, he opened the door but turned back with a grin.

‘I’ll go get him then,’ he said, eyeing the mess as Piper struggled to clean it. ‘Y’know, if you just apologise and ask him nicely, I’m sure he’d help clean this up.’

He continued laughing as he closed the door, narrowly avoiding the other pink sock as it flew from Piper’s hand, flopping harmlessly as it hit the door.

* * *

After grabbing Codsworth from the market (and removing the pink sock from behind his eyestalk), Marcus bought a new satchel from the general store. Within a few minutes, Piper had already filled it with enough medical provisions and ammunition to supply a small army, and they were all ready to leave. 

As they left, Piper held Nat close and gave her forehead a loud, smacking kiss; much to her annoyance.

‘Stay safe, Kiddo’ she said, ruffling Nat’s hair playfully.

Marcus saw the guards who were watching him earlier still standing on the walkway to the upper stands. They were both staring at him and Piper and a sudden fear shot through him.

‘Piper,’ he said, his eyes not leaving the guards. ‘Do you think she’ll be safe here? On her own, I mean.’

He nodded towards the guards and Piper followed the gesture.

‘I wouldn’t worry about them,’ she said, smiling. ‘Nicky promised to swing by every now and then to check up on Nat, and Ellie’s gonna be staying over to keep an eye on things.’

He frowned but didn’t say anything. Piper had said that the guards had nothing more than threats at their disposal, and with Nick watching over her, Marcus was happy that she would be safe. He unwrapped Reason from the bundle and smiled inwardly when he saw Piper looking at it. 

‘That’s… wow’ she said, watching him as he handled the rifle. Her gaze passed over the gold engraving on the stock and she raised her eyebrow questioningly.

‘What?’ he asked, smiling in response to her mocking expression. ‘Some people like to have nice things…’

‘…And some boys like to name their toys’ she said, finishing his sentence. ‘Don’t worry Blue, I don’t judge. I might even name my pipe pistol.’

She flashed him a smile and he chuckled as they began down the walkway, the shadow of the Fens looming before them.

* * *

Leaving Diamond City, they decided to follow the road southwest. The buildings on either side of the road took on a menacing air, bathed in shadow from the low angle of the morning sun. Despite the shade, sweat had already began to trickle down the nape of Marcus’ neck. He took off his jacket and wrapped it around his waist, unfastening his rifle sling as he did so. 

‘Wishing for a nuclear winter, Blue?’ said Piper as she wiped her brow, taking off her hat and stuffing it, along with her coat, into her satchel, much to the annoyance of Codsworth.

Marcus merely grunted as they continued on. The heat had never agreed with him and he could feel a headache coming on as he took a sip from his canteen. 

The trio eventually reached a fork in the road and Marcus turned to face the others. 

‘By my calculations, Sir, the road west seems to be our best bet’ said Codsworth, accessing the map module Marcus had installed.

Marcus switched his Pip-boy onto the map screen and began tracing the road west, when a scream sounded close by. Holding his rifle ready, Marcus started to run towards the sound.

‘Wait!’

The call brought him to a halt as he turned, his eyes darting to Piper.

‘It’s a trap,’ she said, sighing. ‘The raider groups around here do it all the time to lure people in.’

Marcus looked at her helplessly. The woman’s screams rang out once more, louder this time, and he cursed under his breath.

‘There has to be something we can do?’

‘Blue-‘

‘I’m going to scout the area,’ he said, interrupting her before she could convince him otherwise. ‘I’ll keep my distance, don’t worry’ he added quickly as her expression became concerned.

Without another word, he was off, running quickly towards the scream, keeping low and sticking to the shadows. Piper and Codsworth watched from the junction until he turned right into an alleyway and was lost to sight.

‘Stay safe, Blue’ she whispered into the wind.

* * *

Turning down the alleyway, Marcus made sure to stay low and stay hidden. He followed the building to the left and slowed as he came upon a large, open road. Readying Reason, he slowly scanned both directions, watching with an expert eye for any sign of movement. As he watched, the scream sounded once again and he panned the scope to see. A woman was standing by a large building, the door hanging off its hinges. She screamed, following with the words ‘help me, my baby, they have my baby!’ Once she had finished, she looked up and down the street. Her posture changed as she realised no-one was coming and she adopted an air of nonchalance, sparking up a cigarette from her jacket pocket. Marcus watched as she waved her hand to a nearby rooftop, signaling someone.

He adjusted the scope again and saw three raiders leaning over the edge of the rooftop railing. One of them returned the wave and they continued their loose patrol of the rooftop, watching the streets around.

Marcus cursed and hid back in the shadow of the building, watching the raiders as he lay Reason on the ground beside him. 

‘She’s one of them,’ he thought, realising the extent of the trap. ‘She lures people in and the ones up there pick them off.’

He felt bile rise to the back of his throat as he thought about how many people must have heard the screams and tried to help, only to be shot in the back. He pushed down his anger and focused. He knew what he had to do.

He looked at the Pip-boy screen briefly but disregarded it. He didn’t need V.A.T.S for these shots. He picked up Reason and peeked around the corner, just in time to see a raider turn away. He crouched and lifted the rifle. His breathing slowed as he steadied the crosshair on the raider’s back. Waiting for the perfect opportunity, time seemed to slow, and Marcus could feel each beat of his heart.

_ One _

The raider turned and began walking back to the railing.

_ Two _

He rested one hand on the railing and looked out onto the street.

_ Three _

His brow scrunched up as he peered into the shadows from a distance. His eyes began to widen as he discerned Marcus’ vague silhouette… 

…but it was too late.

The shot was muffled by the silencer and the recoil reverberated throughout Marcus’ entire body. The bullet raced towards the raider and before a sound could escape his lips, a hole appeared in his chest. The raider stumbled, blood beginning to pour from his mouth as he tried to speak, his lips moving silently. He fell forward, flipping over the railing, and hit the ground below with a loud, wet thud.

One of the other raiders on the rooftop heard the sound and peered over the railing. Another well-aimed shot from Reason stopped the shout in the raider’s throat instantly as the force of the bullet threw him back against the brick wall.

‘Well,’ thought Marcus as he marveled at the sheer power of his upgraded rifle. ‘Thank you Arturo.’

A cry rang out from his left and he turned to see the screaming woman had spotted the body and was retreating back into the building behind her. The final raider on the rooftop had heard the commotion and had seen the crumpled bodies of her fallen companions. She was hiding on the rooftop, just out of sight, and definitely out of range of Marcus.

‘I know you’re out there somewhere ya bastard,’ came the shout from the rooftop. ‘You’re not leaving here alive.’

Marcus hid back in the shadows and peered around the corner, hoping the raider would reveal herself.

‘Tough talk from scum like you,’ he shouted. ‘You may not have noticed, but you’re all alone up there. Seems your friends weren’t used to people fighting back.’

He scanned the rooftop, hoping for some reaction to his provocation, but there was no sign of the final raider. She was still hidden somewhere and as he watched, he spotted a fire escape on the side of the apartment building. He cursed as he realised there could be another way for her to get down to the ground without him seeing. The wall at his back, he weighed up his options.

If he walked away now, they would continue to lure in hapless people and murder them for their belongings. He couldn’t leave them alive. He knew there were probably more in the apartment building itself and added to the one on the rooftop, it was a daunting task. He sighed as he thought of Piper and Codsworth, waiting back at the junction only a short distance away. 

Holding Reason close, he peeked around the corner before taking his shot. Sprinting out into the open, he crossed the road in a flash, bounding towards the open doorway of the apartment block. He waited until his heart stopped pounding and his breathing slowed. There were no shouts of alarm.

He looked into the doorway, staring into the gloom, waiting for his eyes to adjust from the harsh light of the Commonwealth.

‘This is a small apartment block,’ he thought, assessing the small entrance level. ‘Close quarters combat.’

His years in the military had left him experienced enough to know a pistol or melee weapon was best in close combat situations. Life in the Commonwealth however, rarely followed the same pattern. He knew better than most that a well-armed group of raiders could have everything from shotguns to missile launchers. Some groups had even created their own warped versions of power armour. He also knew that for all of their weaknesses, raiders were vicious fighters, able to withstand massive amounts of damage due to constant chem usage. And he was in their home now.

He reached for his pistol but stopped short, his eyes going to the twisted barrel of Reason.

‘C’mon Arturo,’ he whispered as he gripped the barrel in one hand, whilst pressing a small button on the side of the rifle with the other. ‘Don’t fail me now.’

With a low, satisfying click, the barrel began to twist loosely in his hand, seemingly flowing back into the chamber. Once it had gone the whole way, there was another click as it locked itself into place. What was a high-powered sniper rifle was now a close-quarters weapon, able to engage at short range, whilst keeping the power and stealth of its original design.

He began to walk towards the doorway, making sure to keep low. Something hanging above him caught his eye. It was just a shadow but the shape seemed familiar. He peered into the darkness for a moment before a word rang out in his mind.

_ TRAP _

He recognized the bouquet of grenades hanging a few feet above his head and carefully followed the wire down to the base of the doorway. A crude tripwire was tautly placed, connected to the pin of the grenade cluster.

He had seen this trap before. It was a common raider trap and easy to disarm if you saw it early enough. Lowering Reason, he carefully disarmed the tripwire, marveling at the fact that the rudimentary design hadn’t already blown up.

‘At least they won’t know I’m coming now’ he thought, cautious not to let overconfidence get the better of him.

He headed through, his eyes now adjusted to the gloom. He checked through the ground level apartments with an expert eye and found nothing of use. In the final one however, was a lone raider. He was facing away from Marcus, tinkering with an old stove.

Marcus took the shot and the raider was dispatched with ease, his body slumping to the floor quietly as a small groan escaped his lips. He had a handful of caps and basic ammo, which Marcus gratefully stored in his satchel. 

He was suddenly aware of the time he was wasting here and thought of Piper and Codsworth. He quickly made his way up the stairs, avoiding the hanging tin can alarms easily. He stopped short at the next level however, as a red laser slowly tracked its way across the hallway before him. At the end of the hallway was the unmistakable sound of a turret.

He remembered the turrets he installed in Sanctuary and a thought occurred to him. Moving slowly, he kept to the shadows at the opposite end of the hallway to the turret. Aiming Reason precisely, he took his shot, hitting the tracking lens and effectively disabling the turret in a single shot.

Heading up further, he was able to hear two raiders talking in the next apartment. Peeking around the doorway, he saw one of them sharpening a machete whilst the other began to head to the door, holding a combat shotgun on his shoulder. 

Marcus clung to the wall and quickly unsheathed his knife. As the raider emerged from the doorway, he lunged and took him by surprise. The kill was quick and the raider fell, but the other had heard.

Shouting, she charged into the hallway with the machete, and swung in violent arcs at Marcus. Narrowly avoiding the swings, he found himself quickly pinned against the wall. The raider was smiling maniacally now as she realised he was trapped. She swung once again but he rolled at the last second, causing her to lose her balance from the force of her own momentum. As she fell, the machete dropped to the ground with a metallic ring. 

He took the opportunity and plunged the knife deep into the raider’s chest as she crawled to her weapon. As she drew her last breath, he stood, his muscles screaming with exertion.

If there was one thing he had learned from his time in the Commonwealth, it was that hesitation and morals get you killed. He told himself that as he walked away towards the exit, but he could feel bile rising to the back of his throat again as he thought of the raider’s eyes looking at him as they slowly drained of life.

He suppressed a shudder and exited through the door, finding himself on the rooftop. The final raider stood at the edge, looking over the railing. She hadn’t heard him and was probably searching the street for any signs. 

The shot took her by surprise and the force sent her spiraling over the railing. He heard an audible crunch as her body hit the ground and suppressed a shudder. Looking in the rooftop cache the raiders had set up, he found a sizable stash of caps, ammo, and chems. In the corner of the small room, there was also a pile of clothes, stacked high until they touched the ceiling.

Marcus grimaced as he thought about those poor people as he took the supplies, leaving the chems.

* * *

Heading back to the junction, he was relieved to find Piper and Codsworth where he had left them. It seemed as though they had reconciled somewhat, as when he approached, they were in the middle of what looked to be an engaging conversation.

As Piper looked up and spotted him, a frown appeared on her face as she considered the blood and grime his top was covered in.

‘I’m fine,’ he said quickly, flashing her a grin before she could speak. ‘There were only a few, but they were well-armed.’

He sighed, thinking about the pile of clothes.

‘Why don’t the Diamond City guards patrol out here?’ he asked, gesturing to the space around them. ‘This sort of thing shouldn’t be happening so close to town.’

‘You’ve seen what they’re like,’ she said, snorting derisively. ‘If it’s outside the city, it isn’t their problem. And it’s not like McDonough’s gonna do anything about it.’

He paused for a moment and took a sip of his canteen. He had done everything he could do, there was no point in staying. He looked up and saw that the sun was high overhead.

‘Noon,’ he sighed, extending Reason’s barrel before putting it into the sling on his back. ‘We better get going. We’ve wasted enough time here.’

He began to walk down the west road.

‘We? Last I checked, you were the one who ran off to play hero.’

Piper’s mocking tone made him turn around and he saw a wide grin spread across her face. For the second time that day, he couldn’t help but chuckle with her. Her eyes bore into his as their smiles faded and a silence grew between them. He felt his face grow hot as he was the first to look away.

‘We should… probably get moving’ he said awkwardly, nodding towards Codsworth, who had already started along the road west.

They followed him as he went on ahead, the road leading around the large building that the screaming raider ran into. Before they had caught up however, shots rang out from around the corner ahead of them.

Pulling Piper to one side, Marcus hid behind the corner, about to peek just as Codsworth hovered past, shouting:

‘I believe I’ve angered them Sir! They appear to be shooting at me!’

He popped his head around the corner briefly, staggering back as more shots were fired, shattering the brick mere inches from his face.

‘How many are there?’ said Piper, her voice quivering slightly despite her calm composure.

‘I counted three,’ said Marcus, readying Reason and not risking another look. ‘But there could be more.’

He grimaced as another barrage of shots splintered a wooden pallet at his feet. He couldn’t find any ground. The raiders had the perfect position, and could easily flank them. He knew he had only one chance to rush them and readied himself for the charge. He crouched low, ready to run forward and rush their position and…

…his face fell as Piper strode past him, holding something in her hand. She threw something around the corner and moved back, crouching behind Marcus. He looked at her blankly until an explosion rocked the ground, sending him to his knees. The raiders screamed briefly before another, larger, explosion shook everything around them.

It lasted for a few seconds before settling down, leaving the world in an eerie silence. The pair stood and warily rounded the corner. In the middle of the clearing was a large crater, the smoldering husk of an oil truck in the center.

There was no sign of the raiders and Marcus stared at Piper, a dumbfounded expression on his face.

‘You have anything else in there I should know about?’ he asked, pointing to the satchel which Piper had drawn the grenade from.

‘Don’t you know it’s rude to ask a lady what’s in her bag, Blue?’ she said with a grin.

Marcus’ Pip-boy began to make clicking noises, starting slow but gaining in frequency.

‘You wanna get out of here?’ she asked. ‘I don’t think we’d make pretty ghouls. Well, _you_ wouldn’t.’

She began to walk away as Codsworth hovered beside a dumbstruck Marcus.

‘She’s quite a woman, eh Sir?’

The outburst from Codsworth made Marcus turn to face him, a confused look on his face.

‘Sorry sir, it seems one of the bullets may have impacted my social drive. I’ll carry out diagnostics on the way.’

The pair continued along the road west to catch up to Piper, as she walked ahead at a relaxed pace.

* * *

‘Stay alert. They might not be as dead as they look.’

Marcus held Reason close as they waded through a layer of feral ghoul corpses. The Mass Pike Tunnel to their right, they skirted the upper barrier, all three of them keeping their weapons ready.

Marcus bent down to examine one of the bodies closest to him.

‘They’re fresh,’ he said. ‘The laser burns are still hot.’

‘Fresh?’ said Piper incredulously, holding a piece of cloth over her mouth and nose. ‘Sure, as fresh as ghouls _can_ be, I guess.’

She nudged one of them with her boot, rolling it over to expose black scorch marks burned into the chest, spread in a tight circle.

‘Who do you think killed them?’ she asked nervously.

He understood the feeling. There must have been at least thirty ghouls spread around them, all with the same laser burns. Someone, or something, had killed these ghouls with frightening precision, and then dragged them here, leaving the few valuables they had still on the bodies.

‘Whoever, or _whatever_ it was, I’d rather not be here when they come back,’ he said, moving on but still holding Reason close. ‘We should get moving.’

For once, Piper didn’t need telling twice, and the trio moved on, passing the ghouls behind.

Marcus put on a brave face as they walked but his mind was troubled. He had seen those very same laser marks before. Back in Sanctuary, when Cynthia and the other synth had tried to abduct him, he remembered the precision with which they fired their laser rifles. The image of Cynthia’s corpse, with the large hole burned in her chest, flashed into his mind. He suppressed a shudder and kept his head on a swivel as they continued onwards.

Continuing west, they reached an old railway bridge which passed over the Mass Pike Tunnel. Marcus led the way, with Codsworth effortlessly hovering along behind him, but when he turned, he saw Piper eyeing the bridge cautiously.

‘You okay there, Piper?’ he called back, as both him and Codsworth reached the other side.

‘Fine’ she said, just a beat too fast.

He watched her as she slowly began to make her way across the bridge. Her eyes were focused on her feet and her brow was furrowed in concentration as she wobbled along.

‘You’ll catch me if I fall, right Blue?’ she said, giving a shaky smile to hide her nerves.

‘Sure,’ he answered. ‘It’s not like there’s a giant pit full of feral ghouls below you or anything.’

She flashed him the ‘Piper stare’ and hurried the rest of the way. She walked off the bridge and gave him a punch on the arm before carrying on. He laughed as she passed him, massaging his arm when he was sure she wouldn’t see.

They continued northwest, following the railway line as it twisted its way through the barren landscape. The trees around them seemed to loom over their heads, creating a shadowed canopy of dead wood.

Codsworth consulted his map module and led the way, with the other two following a few paces behind, walking side by side at a measured pace. 

‘This place seems so… cold’ said Piper as they walked.

Marcus felt the heat of the Commonwealth sun beating down on him and turned to her, his eyebrow raised.

‘You know what I mean,’ she said. ‘It all feels so dead. Lifeless.’

He remained silent as memories of the forest in full bloom came to his mind. He wanted to tell Piper how beautiful everything was, how the cicadas chirped in the dense undergrowth, and how the perfume from the swaying trees carried for miles around. But he couldn’t. He had never told anybody his story. Even when he told Preston back in Sanctuary, he hadn’t told him everything.

He pondered the situation as they came upon two old buildings and a large red water tanker on the right side of the railway. A small path led off to the west, down a small slope to a muddy embankment, whilst the railway line continued onwards, stretching as far as Marcus could see, rusted train cars strewn about it.

‘Which way, Codsworth?’ Piper asked.

Codsworth spun to face the western slope, his map module pinging with delight.

‘I believe it’s this way Miss Piper,’ he said, already moving on ahead. ‘Though I fear the two of you may ruin your clothes getting down.’

They navigated the muddy slope with relative ease. Before them was an old bridge leading to what looked like a town from their vantage point. Crossing the bridge, it dawned on Marcus that it might be good to take Piper’s mind off of the height, remembering her face as she crossed the railway bridge.

‘You ever been this far out into the Commonwealth?’ he asked.

‘Sure,’ she replied, glancing over as they slowly walked across. ‘I’ve chased stories from Salem to Quincy. Well, just outside Quincy. I mean, going inside is crazy. Never been _this_ way though. Guess these really are uncharted territories, Blue.’

He noticed the way she had begun to babble, and doubled his efforts to distract her.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you about that. Why Blue?’

She smiled, taking her eyes away from the ground far below them to look at him.

‘Because you’re a vault dweller,’ she said blankly, letting the words linger as she watched his face change. She chuckled at his sheepish expression. ‘I know you’re not wearing the blue jumpsuit right now, but the Pip-boy and that ‘fish out of water’ look? Dead giveaways.’

‘You knew I wasn’t telling the truth in the interview?’ he said, remembering the false backstory he created back at Diamond City.

‘I figured you’d tell me the _real_ story eventually,’ she said, still smiling. ‘When you were ready.’

He felt his face grow hot and stared pointedly at his feet as he replied.

‘Thank you for being so understanding.’

‘Don’t mention it, Blue,’ she said, punching in the arm once more. ‘You don’t want to see me get all weepy.’

She winked and they both made their way across the last part of the bridge. She turned to him as they stepped off of the bridge.

‘Oh, and thanks for trying to take my mind off the bridge. I appreciate it.’

He smiled at his failed attempt at subtlety and they began to head up the curved road, heading west, with Codsworth leading as before.

There was a small town to the northwest, but Marcus could see that the flooded buildings were the perfect breeding ground for mirelurks, and gave the place a wide berth.

As they walked along the road, they began to discuss everything from the arrival of the Brotherhood a few weeks ago, to the reformation of the Minutemen. Marcus found it refreshing to talk to someone who knew as much as, if not more than, himself regarding the affairs of the Commonwealth. And every now and then, she would give him a sideways glance which he spotted from the corner of his eye, sending a small shiver down his spine.

They continued talking for a while, Piper leading the conversation now.

‘I’ve been to Lexington once or twice but never as far as Sanctuary. What’s it like?’ she asked.

‘Well, it’s a lot better than it was, that’s for sure,’ he said, warming to the topic. ‘When I first found it, there was just a handful of rundown houses. I started to build them up and pretty soon, people started to come by to see what was going on. Well, extra people meant extra hands, and we all got to work. And it just kept growing. Now, we’ve got our own school, water purification plant, trader outpost. Pretty soon we’ll be the ‘great grey jewel of the Commonwealth’ he said, referencing the grey wall surrounding Sanctuary.

‘Wow Blue, I’m impressed,’ she said, showing genuine interest in his efforts with Sanctuary. ‘I’d heard the stories of the mighty sniper of Sanctuary but I never believed them. I mean, there couldn’t be someone _that_ amazing in the Commonwealth!’

‘And what do you think now?’ he asked, chuckling at the nickname which was beginning to grow on him.

‘Well, you’re not bad, I guess. You’re no Piper Wright, but you’ll do.’

They laughed as they continued on, reaching another old overpass which towered above them. As Piper followed the structure up with her eyes, Marcus noticed her face drain of colour. He thought about trying to distract her but he found she was looking at him curiously.

‘Why did you start building up Sanctuary? It couldn’t have just been a spur of the moment decision.’

Her question caught him off guard but he had time to think as they walked out from the shadow of the overpass, heading down the north road after Codsworth. The truth was that he wanted to build his new life away from the politics of the Commonwealth, and that the rebirth of Sanctuary was almost a symbolic gesture on his part. The truth was that he was able to make Sanctuary Hills a new place, with a new purpose; something he had tried for so long to accomplish for himself. But the truth was still difficult, and as much as he hated it, he needed to create another story to tell Piper.

A thought occurred to him however, he could tell Piper the truth. He just need to choose his words very carefully. The shrewd reporter had her eyes fixed on him as he answered.

‘Well, when I started, I guess it was to set up a place for myself,’ he began, his mind racing. ‘Somewhere away from everything else. When other people started turning up, I realised they had nowhere else to go. They had no family, no food, no protection. All they had were the clothes on their backs, and some of them didn’t even have that much. Well, I couldn’t just leave them. And I guess they reminded me of myself. Nowhere to call home anymore, nobody left. And so I started building, and I haven’t stopped. The rest, I guess, is history.’

Piper looked at him for the longest time before nodding, seemingly satisfied with his answer.

‘I get that, Blue,’ she said, her eyes sparkling as they walked. ‘Nat’s the only family I have left. If we didn’t find Diamond City…’

She trailed off as her thoughts became her own and they walked in silence until they reached an old military checkpoint. The booth had been empty for a very long time and the barrier, long since snapped, lay rusted in the dirt of the Commonwealth.

Passing through, the small town was eerily quiet, and the trio could hear the wind whistling through the empty buildings. Marcus’ eyes searched the ruins, checking every open window and doorway for signs of life.

Finding nothing, they continued on to the massive edifice which must have been Fort Hagen. The armoured door at the entrance was sealed and judging from the fact it was still standing with nary a scratch, Marcus decided to find another way inside.

They made their way around the Fort, past a Red Rocket station, and found scaffolding snaking its way around the fort. They climbed with bated breath, all of them afraid to break the silence. Without a word, they made their way across the rooftop and stood before a hatch leading into the fort itself.

Marcus unslung Reason and stood with his companions, staring at the metal hatch.

‘Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more’ came Codsworth’s solemn voice as he pried open the hatch.

And with that, they entered. Their journey may have been at an end but their true ordeal was only just beginning.


	7. Best Served Cold

‘Not yet,’ Marcus whispered as he watched the synths patrolling through the doorway. ‘Wait for my signal.’

Piper and Codsworth waited at his back, their weapons ready. He could see two synths slowly walking a steady patrol, whilst a turret swept across the room in an effort to find hostiles. From the soft footsteps from the room to the right, Marcus gathered there were more synths on patrol there.

‘Not an easy fight,’ he thought, assessing the situation. ‘That turret can shred through the wall like paper and those synths won’t take kindly to me taking it out. And they’re just the ones I can see.’

He moved back behind the wall to confer with the others.

‘How’s it looking out there, Blue?’

‘Not too good,’ he said, sighing. ‘If I can take out that turret, can you go around the side and flank the synths?’

‘You betcha’ said Piper, as she moved into position at the left side of the wall.

‘Codsworth, I need you to watch that doorway,’ said Marcus, pointing to the doorway leading to the room on the right. ‘Anything comes through, I need that buzz saw of yours ready, got it?’

‘Absolutely Sir! You can count on me!’ came the jolly reply as Codsworth hovered over to his position.

Marcus took his position in front of Codsworth and lined up his pistol to take the shot. Aiming for the tracking lens of the turret was difficult when it was still, but with it rotating on sweep mode, it was a task only a sharpshooter could accomplish. He took a deep breath and fired, the sound bouncing off the concrete walls. There was a loud crack as the lens broke, disabling the turret as it continued its now-ineffective sweep.

As one, both synths turned towards Marcus, raising their laser rifles with frightening speed. At the sound of his shot, Piper rounded the corner and began firing at the approaching synths, drawing their attention. With their combined fire, the two synths went down quickly, with no time to react despite their augmented senses. Another came in from the doorway next to the disabled turret and Marcus walked forward slowly, shooting the entire distance, sending the synth crumpling to the floor.

Without warning, he felt a massive impact rock him, sending him flying across the room and into the wall. A synth had rushed from the doorway to the right and slammed into Marcus. It skilfully avoided the whirring blade Codsworth thrust its way and spotted Piper with her weapon drawn. It ran at her with an odd, mechanical gait, knocking the pipe pistol from her hand before she had time to fire a shot; barging her onto the floor in one fluid motion.

It reached for the rifle clipped to its back and drew it, aiming at Piper as the barrel charged up, the blue light giving the room an ethereal glow. Marcus quickly grabbed his pistol from the ground beside him and fired shots in quick succession. The bullets tore through the synth’s polymer chestplate, splintering metal and plastic alike. The shards flew across the room as the synth crumpled to the floor.

Marcus got to his feet slowly, feeling a sharp pain in his side as he moved.

‘Probably a broken rib,’ he thought, remembering the medical training he received in boot camp. For a moment, he could almost imagine Sergeant Avery barking about battlefield injuries to a room full of fresh-faced recruits; himself amongst them. He shook his head. ‘Not the time.’

He moved over to Piper and offered his hand, but she just smiled, hoisting herself up on her own.

‘Not this time, Blue.’

They both dusted themselves off and headed into the other room, where Codsworth had just finished sawing his way through the final synth. A viscous white fluid sprayed out from the deep tear in the synth’s neck, pooling across the concrete floor. The sound of a turret whirring into life sounded from around the corner, and Codsworth luckily moved out of the way, the hail of bullets narrowly missing him.

Marcus quickly took care of the turret and scanned the other rooms thoroughly before returning to Piper.

‘You okay?’ he said, keeping his pistol unholstered for the time being.

‘Just a few scrapes, Blue,’ said Piper. ‘That last one really caught me. Looks like he did a number on you too.’

She gestured to his side, where a small shard of metal was poking out from beneath his jacket. Gritting his teeth, he pulled it out and dropped it onto the ground.

‘Not a broken rib after all’ he thought, remembering his prior assumption in the heat of battle.

He saw Piper rummaging through her satchel before pulling out a stimpak, and followed suit. The soft hiss of the auto-injector sounded as the cool liquid flowed into his wound, instantly numbing and disinfecting the area. Piper did the same and a shudder ran through her entire body.

Codsworth entered the room lazily from the adjoining corridor and stopped beside them, hovering a few metres away.

‘Sir, Miss Piper, are you both alright?’

‘We’re fine Codsworth’ said Marcus, managing a bright grin despite his weariness. ‘What about y-‘

He was interrupted by the steady rhythm of footsteps on the floor below them. He pressed himself against the doorframe and instantly snapped his pistol up, targeting the door leading to the stairwell.

Seconds dragged by as the sounds continued, stopping abruptly before a robotic voice spoke.

‘I am no longer detecting an enemy presence.’

‘Resuming regular patrol patterns’ replied another synth voice, from a different part of the floor below.

Marcus relaxed his grip and moved away from cover. The footsteps moved away from the stairwell and slowly faded away.

‘Looks like they can only patrol on one floor’ he said, readying himself for the fight ahead.

The trio made their way to the doorway to the stairwell and stopped before the broken body of a synth. Bullet holes had pierced the polymer casing and exposed some of the internal wiring. Sparks of electricity crackled through the plastic and Marcus shuddered as he remembered the same scene on the floor of his house in Sanctuary. He could see Cynthia lying there, wires and metal poking out through the synthetic skin.

‘You okay, Blue?’ said Piper, seeing his pained expression and matching it with concern.

He nodded and pushed back his thoughts. He couldn’t afford any distractions.

Not now.

Not when he was so close to Shaun.

* * *

At the bottom of the stairs, they found a charge pod with the glass tube unbroken and an old protectron model nestled in the web of wires and circuitry within. On the wall beside it was an old pre-war terminal, with its keyboard and screen covered in dust from two centuries of disuse.

‘Codsworth, see what you can do with that terminal,’ said Marcus. ‘Having a protectron watching our backs would make things a lot easier.’

Codsworth hovered over to the terminal and initiated the boot-up sequence. Before he could begin his attempt to bypass the security measures however, he turned to Marcus, his appendages beginning to seize up and malfunction.

‘Sir, I don’t believe my programming will allow me to hack a restricted terminal. Especially one belonging to a military installation.’

His appendages now locked out completely, Codsworth moved away from the powered terminal, allowing one of the others to try. Marcus turned expectantly to Piper.

‘Don’t look at me, Blue,’ she said, raising her hands in defeat. ‘I can’t even get the one I have back home to work without Nat.’

Sighing, Marcus pressed the enter key on the terminal keyboard, struggling to keep up with the flat, green text crawling across the screen. A number of potential passwords revealed themselves through the jargon and Marcus scanned them hopelessly. He would never find the right one. He pressed the enter key over the word ‘CROWN’ and an off-beat beep sounded, rejecting the password.

Just as he began to lose hope, he spotted the word ‘SHELL’ hidden between clusters of heavy jargon. Owing to the military history of Fort Hagen, Marcus wagered that the password was one of military significance and pressed the enter key once again. This time however, a joyful beeping ensued, unlocking the terminal and bringing up the protectron control screen.

He quickly entered the targeting parameters to exclude himself, Piper, and Codsworth, before enabling the law enforcement personality mode and activating the pod.

A small whoosh of air hissed as the charge pod slid open, the lights on the protectron already beginning to turn on. It emerged from the pod with a metallic clanking sounding its arrival and spun to face Piper.

‘Erm, Blue? This guy’s getting real friendly’ she said as the protectron began to slowly walk towards her.

It stopped short and swivelled around to face the room ahead of them.

‘Friendlies identified. Beginning sweep and clear protocols’ came its mechanical voice as it walked forward, its head moving side to side as it surveyed the room.

Marcus waited until he heard the first shots before following at a slow pace, with the others behind him. They walked through the now-empty room and saw the synths strewn about the floor, holes melted through their bodies by the protectron. They could hear the footsteps of their new guardian from the room ahead of them, along with his mechanical voice sounding between bursts of laser fire.

‘Do not attempt to flee,’ it said, before firing again. ‘Justice will be served quickly and fairly.’

The trio continued to follow, picking up ammo and other essentials from the broken synths, making sure to check each room thoroughly in case the protectron had missed an enemy. Marcus knew how stealthy synths could be.

The protectron had finished its sweep and was seemingly waiting for them beyond a large hole in the concrete wall. Marcus had barely stepped through when a familiar noise sounded.

‘Back!’ he shouted, scrambling back through the hole without thinking, pushing Piper and Codsworth to safety.

The turret began firing at the wall and its aggression prompted the idle protectron to identify the disturbance. It walked in front of the hostile turret and began to fire, but not before the turret had found its mark. The protectrons lasers found the turret just as the hail of bullets tore through the robot. They both exploded in a mass of metal and glass, Marcus shielding the others behind the concrete wall.

‘Looks like it’s just us again’ he said, hoping that the protectron had been able to clear most of the synths ahead.

‘Cheer up, Blue. Maybe these guys were stockpiling protectrons,’ said Piper sarcastically, beaming at him. ‘With any luck, we can have an army of angry robots helping us through.’

He smiled despite himself and they carried on through the fort. He remembered back before the bombs fell, how the robots were everywhere. From manufacturing to healthcare, automatons had been programmed to assist in almost every capacity.

He remembered when he served in the Commonwealth Reserves, years before the Great War, with a protectron tech specialist in his company. He smiled as he recalled the shocked faces of some of the new recruits as the metal man greeted them and followed orders like any other soldier. He marvelled at how far they had progressed in the short build-up to the war, with entire units of assaultrons and sentry bots opposing the red advance at Anchorage.

‘War always advances technologies beyond any progress made in peacetime’ he thought morbidly, thinking of the inevitable conflict between the factions of the Commonwealth.

He was wrenched back to reality as a loud crack split the silence as they trudged through the empty rooms. He looked down to see that he had stepped on an old bone which had come loose from a nearby skeleton. Still dressed in pre-war army fatigues, the skeleton was perched on a stool, a glass and mess tray still on the table before him.

Marcus noticed a weapon propped up against the soldier’s chair and picked it up.

‘A shotgun,’ he mused, inspecting the weapon as Piper and Codsworth warily scouted ahead. ‘Double-barrelled. Should be good for small rooms and tight corridors.’

He took the few shells from the table and quickly searched the soldier’s satchel for some extra ammunition before catching up with the others. Piper looked over the new weapon as he joined them.

‘Named it yet?’ she asked. ‘You already have Reason so what about… The…’ She scratched her head, searching for a suitable name for the shotgun. ‘…The Shotgun… of… Shooting…’

She scrunched up her face and shrugged apologetically before flashing him a quick grin.

‘The Shotgun of Shooting, eh? Maybe we’ll wait and see if it actually fires before giving it a name,’ he said, pausing to examine the strange modification on the side of the weapon. ‘I wonder what you do’ he mumbled to himself.

Continuing on, they reached the next room and Marcus held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks. He peered around the corner and saw two synths on patrol, their rifles held low and ready. He moved back against the wall and turned to Piper.

‘There are two on patrol but I should be able to take them out before they can fire back,’ he whispered, patting his new shotgun. ‘Don’t come in unless you hear me call, okay?’

‘I’m not sure about that, Blue,’ she replied, her face lined with concern. ‘But I trust you. Give ‘em hell.’

Her comment did little to assuage his fears however, as he turned the corner and began sneaking over to the row of cabinets. Hiding behind them, he could see both synths clearly as they stopped on their patrol. One continued shortly, but the other sat on a nearby chair, remaining unnaturally still on the wooden frame.

Marcus remembered Nick had told him about synths while they planned their strategy at Publick Occurrences. He had told him that there were more advanced synths who could pose as humans and infiltrate settlements with ease; ones known as Gen-3’s. Gen-1’s and 2’s were older, less refined iterations of synth technology, with low intelligence and basic protocols. They were also easily distinguishable from humans, even from a distance, due to their exteriors; clearly made from plastic and metal.

‘Guess the Gen-1’s are smarter than we thought’ he considered, watching the seated synth examine a burnt magazine, flipping through the pages as it crumbled into ash, confusing it.

He set his thoughts aside as he raised the shotgun, aiming for the synth on the chair. He took a few slow breaths before firing, the recoil sending shockwaves through his body, rocking his bones. The shell hit the synth squarely in the left shoulder, exploding into a ball of flames and shrapnel, engulfing the synth as it spiralled through the air. The impact of the shot splintered the chair, setting it ablaze along with the synth, who flew across the room, knocking into the other as it patrolled and sending them both to the ground.

Taking the opportunity to strike before the synth could register what had happened, Marcus left his cover and aimed at it as it rose, emptying the second barrel straight into the chestplate. The shell tore through the polymer armour, setting the inner mechanisms of the synth alight. The flames quickly consumed both synths and before long, all that remained were two lumps of metal and plastic, blackened and charred by the incendiary shells of Marcus’ new shotgun.

He reloaded the weapon, admiring the modification and the power of the incendiary rounds, before calling Piper and Codsworth over from their cover. They joined him and Piper watched the smoke begin to drift through the air from the broken bodies on the floor.

‘So, I guess the gun fires then,’ she said. ‘…And it sets things on fire.’

She scratched her head thoughtfully before clicking her fingers.

‘What about… The Incinerator?’ she said with a flourish.

Marcus and Codsworth exchanged glances before Marcus replied hesitantly.

‘It’s… not bad,’ he began slowly. ‘But how about we leave the names to me?’

She gave him her trademark ‘Piper Stare’ before leaving them both, continuing on into the room ahead. As soon as she rounded the corner however, a familiar sound greeted her. A laser turret unfolded itself from its metal shell on the ceiling and placed its target directly on her. She had already heard the whirring and stepped back behind the corner as the first laser struck, crumbling the concrete wall. The laser barrage continued for what seemed like minutes, blowing chunks of concrete and dust from the wall.

Piper had retreated to safety with Codsworth whilst Marcus waited by the corner, shotgun in hand. As the shooting ceased, he took advantage of the momentary lull and peeked around the corner. The laser turret was barely visible through the dust swirling about the air, but he could hear the sound of laser cells being replaced within the chamber. Taking the opportunity as it arose, he aimed through the dust and let off both barrels of his shotgun.

The first missed and the shell glanced the ceiling, sending a small plume of flames down to the ground after it. The second shell however, was a direct hit, tearing through the lens of the turret, causing it to burst into flames as shards of glass and metal flew across the room.

Marcus reloaded the shotgun once again before slinging it onto his back, beside Reason. He turned and saw Codsworth hovering beside Piper.

‘Miss Piper,’ began the Mr Handy robot. ‘May I suggest _not_ walking into rooms we have yet to clear? Your safety is far too important, after all.’

The shamefaced Piper merely nodded before flashing a sheepish grin at Marcus from behind the curls framing her face. He felt the heat creep up his neck and suggested that they rest for a moment before heading on.

He searched a nearby crate for supplies whilst Piper and Codsworth examined the terminal which was wired to the storage room door. He found some extra shells for the shotgun and stuffed them, along with some other rounds of different calibres, into his satchel.

‘Sir, I don’t believe we’re going to get anywhere with this terminal. The encryption is a lot stronger than the last one,’ said Codsworth, hovering over to Marcus. One of his eyestalks spun around to face Piper, who was still scrutinising the screen, as the other two remained centred on Marcus. He lowered his voice to what he considered a whisper. ‘Between you and me, Sir, I think Miss Piper is getting a bit… impatient.’

‘I heard that, ya bucket of bolts!’ she said loudly as she smacked the keyboard in frustration, walking away with her hands in the air.

Marcus saw the flashing indicator on the terminal, showing only one attempt left to guess the correct password and thought better of it. The clusters of code scrolling across the screen were too quick and random for him to notice any discernible patterns, let alone individual words.

‘It’s okay, Piper, you tried,’ he said, looking through the grate at the small stack of ammo boxes on the other side. ‘We’ll just have to carry on.’

Unslinging the shotgun, he led the other two into the nearby elevator and pressed the button, feeling the world jolt slightly as they descended deeper into the fetid heart of Fort Hagen.

* * *

‘Down,’ he whispered, falling into a low crouch. He thrust the shotgun into Piper’s hands before unslinging Reason, feeling the familiar grip and weight of his signature rifle. ‘There. Movement at the end of the hallway.’

He raised the rifle and spotted a turret in the doorway at the end of the hallway. He could vaguely hear synths patrolling beyond, but they were hidden from sight. He focused his scope and prepared to fire, readying himself for the synths that would reveal themselves. The muffled shot was silent, drowned out by the explosion of the turret.

He could hear the synths begin to quicken their pace and decided to move forward, taking cover behind an old water boiler as Piper and Codsworth retreated to a safe distance, back towards the elevator.

One of the synths entered the hallway from an adjacent room just as another came out of the same room as the turret, at the end of the hallway. Reason’s shot tore through the first synth as it rounded the corner, shredding the faceplate and core circuitry within. The other synth drew a shock baton and charged towards Marcus, dodging as he fired in quick succession.

Marcus grunted as he reached the end of the magazine and drew another, reloading as reflex. The synth had almost reached the water boiler when a bolt of electricity arced out from the wall, sending the charging synth to the ground. More bolts struck the grounded synth, electrocuting it until it stopped convulsing.

Marcus called out for Piper and Codsworth to join him and started forward, still crouched low. He spotted a tesla trap rigged up to a motion sensor on the wall where the synth lay and directed his companions through a small reactor room to the left. They went through and reached the end of the hallway, when Piper heard a scraping noise coming from the room ahead.

Marcus strained his ears and listened to the faint noise, an odd scratching. He slung Reason over his shoulder and took the shotgun from Piper, who drew her pipe pistol. They entered the room and in an instant, their weapons were trained on the source of the scratching.

A synth was on the concrete floor, fragments of its body scattered around. Both of its legs were in pieces and its left arm had been ripped off from the shoulder. With its remaining hand, it was scraping the ground in a futile attempt to move, dragging the shattered remains of its own body across the room in a sluggish fashion.

Their weapons lowered as it stopped moving, turning to face them with a blank expression.

‘Blue,’ Piper said, her voice barely above a whisper. ‘It must’ve been caught in the blast when the turret exploded. What should we do?’

They turned back to the synth, who was watching Codsworth intently, its head tilted to one side as its eyes took in the floating Mr Handy robot. As Marcus moved slightly, the synth scrambled back, its eyes now wide in fear.

‘Sir, I believe its cognitive processors have been damaged. I might be best to end its suffering’ said Codsworth, his eyestalks downturned sadly.

Marcus looked over the frail synth and raised his shotgun, holding it for a few heartbeats before letting his arm drop back to his side.

‘It feels wrong,’ he said to nobody in particular. ‘The others were armed but him…’

As his voice trailed off, the synth spoke a single word.

‘Please…’ it said, its eyes now pleading to Marcus.

Again, Marcus wondered at the sentience of the Gen-1’s, seeing them as more than mindless drones of the Institute. He raised the shotgun again and this time, a shot rang out, echoing in the small room before fading into silence.

None of them spoke.

Piper avoided the sight of the broken body as they made their way to the stairs, staring intently at the ground as they walked.

* * *

They had reached the base of the stairs when a small movement on the wall ahead made them stop. A small camera swivelled to face them and Marcus could see the interior lens moving, focusing on his face.

A voice crackled through the building’s intercom system, sending shivers down Marcus’ spine.

‘If it isn’t my old friend, the TV dinner,’ the voice began. Marcus knew that Kellogg, the man who had killed his wife, kidnapped his son, and destroyed his life, was somewhere within the fort, but hearing the grating, callous voice again felt like fire and ice running through his veins. The voice continued. ‘Last time we met, you were cosying up to the peas and apple cobbler.’

Marcus felt the heat rise from the hollow pit deep within him, spreading through his body. Throwing rationality to the wind, he walked forward with a single-minded determination. Seeing the metal door ahead of him, he kicked with all of his strength and watched as the hinges buckled and the door fell back. His left foot was across the doorway when a small noise, the barest of sounds, reached his ears.

He turned and saw the worried look on Piper’s face as she opened her mouth to shout something, but her voice was drowned out by the bolt of electricity which struck his shoulder, sending him flying back into the corridor, beside his companions.

He groaned in pain as his muscles involuntarily tensed and began to spasm. Piper rushed to his side, applying a stimpak to his shoulder as Codsworth moved forward to scout beyond the trap. Marcus could feel the soothing liquid as it numbed the pain, and after a few moments, his muscles had loosened. He sat up and holding Piper’s arm for support, got to his feet. The world seemed to tilt and roll around him as he shook his head to clear his vision.

‘Is it bad?’ he managed, his eyes closed as he focused on his breathing to calm his body.

‘Your jacket took most of the damage,’ she said, moving around him to assess the leather jacket. ‘Well, it may not be as stylish anymore, what with the huge hole melted in the back, but at least you’re not fried to a crisp!’

Her humour had done nothing for his spirits however as his scowl deepened.

‘I shouldn’t have rushed in like that. He baited me and I let him. I just-‘

‘You need to stop,’ Piper interrupted, her eyes glittering like green fire as she spoke. ‘You let him get under your skin, you let him get into your head, and he’s already won. This guy is trapped in here, he’s not going anywhere. You’ll get him…’

She gently laid a hand on his arm.

‘ _We’ll_ get him’ she finished.

He took her hand in his and smiled despite himself.

‘Thanks Piper,’ he said. ‘We should get moving.’

A small explosion from up ahead quickens their pace and they turned the corner to find Codsworth hovering over a broken turret.

‘Sir!’ he exclaimed. ‘Are you okay? That trap was villainous, but I knew it wouldn’t keep you down.’

‘Yeah, I’m fine, buddy. You have any trouble here?’ Marcus asked, gesturing to the turret.

‘None whatsoever, Sir. It was no match for the pride of General Atomics!’

Marcus smiled at the remark and they continued onwards through the door, keeping a careful lookout for any more traps. They found themselves before two large, armoured doors, when Kellogg’s voice came through the speakers once again.

‘Sorry your house has been a wreck for 200 years. But I don’t need a roommate. Leave.’

Now ignoring the speakers, the trio moved through the doors and into a small room littered with skeletons. The old bones were still garbed in pre-war military gear, with Marcus noticing that there were only officers. Unpowered consoles lined the walls and dust covered almost every surface. They had only just started forward when they noticed a camera on the wall turn to face them. The speaker system crackled as Kellogg spoke to them.

‘Never expected you to come knocking on my door,’ he said, grunting in approval. Marcus ignored the voice, exchanging a glance with Piper to bolster his determination. ‘Gave you 50/50 odds of making it to Diamond City. After that? Figured the Commonwealth would chew you out like jerky.’

They carried on through the complex, making their way down another small set of stairs and finding a long curved hallway before them. Piper grunted as Marcus pushed her down into a crouch. She turned her head to argue, but his expression stopped her dead.

He was focused on the large pile of debris that had fallen from the roof above, forming a barrier in the middle of the hallway. Behind the chunks of stone and metal pipes, he could see movement. Two synths were patrolling and another was inspecting the debris. Marcus unslung Reason and once again handed the shotgun to Piper.

He lined up the shot, aiming at the synth nearest to them, examining the debris. He fired and winced as the recoil sent a jolt of pain through his injured shoulder. The shot pinged off a metal pipe sticking out from the concrete debris, ricocheting across the hallway before embedding itself in the wall.

The synth closest to them reacted instantly, raising its rifle and scanning the area for movement. Without hesitation, Marcus fired the next shot, finding his target this time. The synth dropped to the ground, sparks crackling from the hole in its neck. The other two had raised their weapons and were now running down the hallway, firing their laser rifles. Marcus caught another in the leg, tripping it as the other vaulted over the debris. Marcus finished off the wounded synth dragging itself towards them, but the last one was too quick. As it raised the rifle in its hands to fire, Marcus dropped Reason, attempting to grab the 10mm pistol he had holstered at his hip, but he was too late.

As he saw the blue light charging in the barrel of the rifle, he closed his eyes and simply waited for the shot.

But it never came.

Instead, as he opened his eyes, he watched as the synth flew back across the hallway, slamming into the wall and bursting into flames as a loud crack echoed off the concrete walls. Beside him, he noticed that Piper had been thrown back in a similar fashion to the synth, and realised that she had fired the shotgun.

He offered his hand to lift her up and this time, she gratefully accepted, rubbing her sore shoulder and quickly handing the shotgun back to him.

‘Jeez Blue, that thing sure packs a punch, but I think I’ll stick to my pistol,’ she said, taking out her pipe pistol. ‘I don’t think my arm can take another shot like _that_.’

He smiled as he replaced the used shell and held the shotgun ready. He picked up Reason and slung it over his shoulder, and the trio stepped over the blazing synth as they made their way through the debris and to the end of the hallway. They stopped at a thick, industrial door, and Codsworth examined the large bolt-lock in the middle.

‘Looks like we won’t be getting through there anytime soon,’ he said, one of his eyestalks almost pressed against the metal door as his bladesaw slowly whirred as he thought. ‘But I’m sure we passed another set of doors on the way…’

His voice trailed off as he hovered back along the hallway, stopping at a set of double doors leading to the left. Marcus didn’t like it. It felt as if they were being corralled, led into a trap, but he could see no alternative.

‘Look sharp,’ he said, as they opened the doors carefully, scouting the new hallway for any signs of an ambush. ‘There could be anything up ahead, and it feels like we-‘

He was cut off as the speakers crackled and a familiar voice spoke.

‘Look. You’re pissed off. I get it. I do,’ came the voice, in an oddly placating tone. ‘But whatever you hope to accomplish in here? It’s not going to go your way.’

They continued to ignore the voice and made the way down the corridor. They had reached a corner when, without warning, a beeping sounded, and the circular forms of two laser turrets descended from the ceiling.

As they fired, Marcus and Piper quickly took cover, whilst Codworth moved forward to rush the turrets with his flamer. From around the corner, a synth must have heard the commotion and charged into the hallway with a shock baton in its wiry metal grip.

Codsworth easily dispatched the synth, his sawblade cutting straight through the baton as it tried to block, and carrying on through the synth’s arm and chest.

Marcus peeked from cover and noticed the turrets rotating to target Codsworth as he continued to slice through the synth. He aimed carefully and shot, the pellets of the shotgun shell spreading and hitting both turrets. One exploded in a small ball of flame, crashing down onto the concrete below, but the other was only grazed and turned to target the attacker.

Marcus quickly hid again as the laser tore into the concrete wall, scattering debris and dust all over the small hallway.

He could hear Piper coughing from beyond the cloud of dust and called her name, but she didn’t respond. He couldn’t risk running across the hallway as the turret was still firing, tearing more chunks of concrete from the wall.

He heard a pistol shot ring out, loud in the close space. It fired again. And again. Each time it fired, a small bloom of light flashed, illuminating Piper’s face as she walked forward slowly, one hand aiming the pipe pistol whilst the other held her scarf tight against her mouth and nose.

One of the shots must have hit the turret as it began to spin wildly, its targeting system damaged. Laser fire struck the walls and floor, sending up even more dust and forcing Marcus to duck back behind cover.

An explosion came from the corridor, almost drowning out the small cry of pain which sent a bolt of fear through Marcus.

‘Piper?’ he called, holding his hand over his mouth and nose, his eyes streaming as he fought his way through the thick cloud of dust. ‘Piper, can you hear me?’

‘…Yeah,’ came the feeble reply. ‘I’m over here.’

He made his way to the voice and to his relief, found her not far from where both turrets lay, broken husks of metal and glass. She was sat against the wall, a grimace of pain on her face. As the cloud of dust settled, the true extent of the laser barrage became known.

Large pieces of concrete had been shot away from the walls and floor, leaving the small hallway looking like a warzone, with the rebar and wire mesh visible through the gaping holes. Piper was also feeling the effects of the turret fire, and Marcus could see a dark patch on Piper’s leg, slowly spreading around a jagged shard of metal poking out from her shin.

‘Here,’ he said, quickly bundling together a few scraps of cloth from his satchel. ‘Bite down and this and try not to move. This is gonna hurt.’

She put the cloth in her mouth and closed her eyes, waiting.

‘You reawwy hab to work on your bebsibe mammer, Boo,’ she mumbled through the cloth. Seconds ticked by. ‘What’sh taking sho lo-‘

She bit down mid-sentence as he pulled the metal out of her leg. Her muffled cries lasted a few more moments as he worked quickly, applying a stimpak before wrapping a bandage around the wound.

Piper spat out the sodden wad of cloth and glared at him, her famous ‘Piper Stare’ as powerful as ever.

‘I. Hadn’t. Finished. Speaking’ she said, punctuating each word as he just smiled back.

‘Old field medic’s trick,’ he said, by way of explanation. ‘They say it hurts less if you’re surprised.’

‘Tell them they’re wrong’ she hissed meekly, letting her head fall back to gently rest against the wall.

Codsworth hovered over as Marcus was packing the medical supplies back into his satchel.

‘All enemies seem to have been dispatched, Sir,’ he said, one of his eyestalks noticing the bandage on Piper’s leg. ‘Miss Piper! You’re injured! I believe there were signs for an infirmary just around the corner. Perhaps you would be more comfortable there?’

Before she could reply, Marcus had hoisted her into his arms, carrying her in front of him as they made their way around the corner and through the double doors to the small infirmary. He placed her gently on one of the beds as she continued giving both him and Codsworth the ‘Piper Stare’.

‘Blue, I don’t need to rest. I’ll be fine,’ she said as she made to get off the bed. As soon as she shifted her weight onto her injured leg however, it buckled and gave way, causing her to lose balance and fall. Thankfully, Marcus caught her before she hit the cracked tile floor, easing her back onto the bed with a barely suppressed smug grin. ‘Fine, maybe a quick rest then.’

Marcus nodded in approval and looked out into the hallway.

‘Codsworth, make sure Piper’s okay,’ he said, holding his shotgun down as he made his way out of the infirmary. ‘I’ll take a quick look around.’

‘Certainly, Sir! You can count on me,’ said the chirpy robot. ‘Miss Piper, perhaps I could take a look at your injury? I’m more than qualified to-‘

‘Oh no you don’t, Chrome Dome. I’ve heard stories about you Mister Handy bots playing doctor,’ she said, raising her fists defiantly. ‘You’d amputate my leg if I sprained my big toe!’

‘Well, I never!’ came the indignant reply. ‘The very thought of the pride of General Atomics International harming a human is just…’

Their conversation faded as he backtracked to the hallway where they fought the turrets and began scouting the pathways they previously passed by.

* * *

Scouting around, he first came upon an old bunkroom, with beds in two perfectly formed rows along the walls, broken and battered trunks at their feet. As with the rest of the fort, the decoration was spartan, with a strict focus on function rather than aesthetics.

Passing a terminal on the wall, he entered a small storage room from the bunks, with a corner of the room enclosed by a cage. Peering through, he noticed a few ammunition boxes but nothing more and decided to leave the locked door alone, heading back out into the hallway once more.

Exploring the branching paths, he came upon an empty bathroom and a generator room. The bathroom was flooded and bare, but the generator room was full of tables and desk, where junk of all shapes and sizes lay, covered in a thick layer of dust.

A steady whirring noise reached his ears and he found an old fusion generator which was still churning out power. He bent down to examine the core in the middle.

‘Hmm,’ he said, wiping the grime from the core casing to read the faded writing beneath. ‘”Standardised Fusion Core – Property of the United States Military”. Bet you’d be worth a ton of caps.’

He thought of the last time he had found a fusion core whilst scavenging. He remembered the look on Sturges’ face as he showed him the small cylinder, his eyes widening at the sight. He had snatched the core out of his hands and ran to the power generators, which gave power to the entire settlement of Sanctuary.

Sturges explained how rare and valuable the cores were, even when depleted. Working with the scientist settlers, they were able to charge the core and integrate it into the power grid, effectively making their gas generators unnecessary.

‘Wait until I come back with this’ Marcus muttered under his breath, grinning. He twisted the sealed cylinder until he heard the small click, gently easing it out of the core port and into his satchel.

Despite the fact that the arrival of the Brotherhood of Steel in the Commonwealth brought with it a large influx of fusion cores, they were still a valuable commodity. The Brotherhood had always maintained a certain professional distance from most settlements, limiting trade and strictly forbidding the sale of advanced technologies, although a fusion core or two may have left the stock of the Red Rocket Outpost. He smiled as he remembered the deal he had brokered with Scribe Haylen, trading extra food to sustain the standard Brotherhood rations in return for fusion cores and ammunition.

The lights on the generator flickered briefly before turning off, leaving Marcus to return to the hallway. He walked back to the infirmary but stopped short, noticing the open door to the mess hall he had missed earlier.

He entered the dimly-lit room and looked around. Rows of benches and tables filled the small hall, giving the room a clean, orderly appearance, despite the clutter littering almost every surface. Taking care not to step on any bones, Marcus made his way to the back of the room and through the doorway leading to the food storage room, coming face-to-face with a small Vault-Tec bobblehead on a table.

He examined the small figure, garbed in a vault suit, with an atom held in one hand. His mind went back to the first Christmas since his retirement from the Army. Nora was only a few months pregnant but she was already missing her job. He smiled as he remembered the day she brought home her degree and told him that she had found a position as a lawyer.

_She was so happy_.

He knew he had to get her something meaningful and pulled some strings with his contacts at Vault-Tec. It may have cost him a bit more, being so close to Christmas, but it was worth it to see her face as she held up the small figurine modelled after herself, with a graduation hat and robe.

He could almost hear her reading the inscription on the base, in her soft, melodic voice:

‘You have made me prouder than you can imagine, happier than any man has ever been, and with you by my side, I know that I can take on the world. I love you. Nate.’

_Nate?_

The illusion was broken and he found himself back in the dreary fort, staring at the bobblehead. He clenched his fists reflexively, suddenly angry to find himself out of his reverie. He knocked the bobblehead off the table, hearing it hit the concrete floor with a smack.

Hearing his old name, the name of the soldier, husband, and father who died in vault 111, brought the reality of the situation crashing down.

‘Pull yourself together,’ he said under his breath. ‘Kellogg has Shaun. I can’t let this get the better of me now. Have to stay strong for him.’

As he spoke, his breathing slowed and his mind began to clear. He thought of Piper and Codsworth waiting in the other room and turned to leave. He had made his way halfway across the mess hall when he stopped suddenly. Turning back, he knelt down and picked up the bobblehead from the floor. He wiped the dirt from the top and looked at the figure.

Without knowing why, he gently put it into his satchel, before heading back across the hall to the infirmary.

* * *

Back in the infirmary, he found Piper off the bed, stretching her injured leg to test the effects of the stimpak. It seemed that it had been allowed enough time to take effect as she was able to extend her leg fully, the grimace on her face present only due to the stiffness.

‘Looks like the stimpak helped,’ he said as she rolled down her trouser leg and turned to face him. Her expression quickly turned to concern as she saw his troubled scowl. She opened her mouth to question him but he was quicker. ‘Where’s Codsworth?’

He looked around the infirmary, noticing the absence of the Mr Handy bot.

‘I sent him to scout ahead,’ she said, putting aside her concern. A sly grin crept across her face. ‘He kept saying he had to keep me safe, so I told him the best way to protect me would be to check the other rooms for enemies.’

Marcus sighed, suppressing a grin of his own. Piper’s ingenuity and cunning had always impressed him, more so now that she was injured.

‘She’s definitely strong,’ he thought. ‘Stronger than most in the Commonwealth.’

Most of the people he had met in the Commonwealth had simply been surviving, fighting each day just to stay alive. From what little he knew of Piper, she not only fought to stay alive, but she was the voice of the voiceless. She fought to protect those who were simply trying to live, despite the hostility it often garnered from the populace.

As he thought about the citizens of Diamond City, and how they all seemed to show a distinctly mistrustful attitude towards Piper, Codsworth entered the room.

‘Ah, Sir, I was just inspecting the path ahead and I must say, this place is _filthy_! I’m afraid to say that the reputation of soldiers and their strict adherence to military hygiene is grossly exaggerated. Ah, present company excluded, of course,’ he said animatedly, adding the last comment as he remembered his master’s past. ‘I wasn’t able to find any enemies either. Though I did find this…’

He held up a holotape in his claw appendage while one of his eyestalks glared at Piper. Marcus took the holotape and inserted it into the Pip-Boy, watching as a code appeared on the screen. Underneath it, a line of text began to crawl across:

‘FORT HAGEN ARMOURY PASSWORD – DO NOT LOSE (YES, THAT MEANS YOU, JENKINS!)’

‘It’s the password for the armoury,’ said Marcus. ‘Let’s hope it still has some useful gear inside.’

Piper unholstered her pistol and walked to the door.

‘Well, what are we waiting for?’ she said, already leaving the room with a barely noticeable limp.

Marcus and Codsworth followed, and they soon found themselves at another small set of stairs. They continued down to find a dimly lit tunnel with large pipes and dull, red lights. The steady sound of hissing echoed throughout the narrow passage, and a thin veil of steam obscured their vision. Speakers were on the wall at regular intervals, separated by lengths of wire. The trio barely batted an eyelid as they crackled into life.

‘You’ve got guts and determination, and that’s admirable,’ came the gravelly voice. ‘But you are in over your head in ways you can’t possibly comprehend.’

They had hardly reached the end of the tunnel when Kellogg spoke again.

‘It’s not too late. Stop. Turn around and leave. Go back to Sanctuary. I won’t send anyone else after you. Just go. You have that option. Not a lot of people can say that.’

Marcus noticed the short, sharp sentences and knew that Kellogg was becoming scared, his voice sounding fearful for the first time since they had heard it.

‘Sounds like Ol’ Kellogg’s running scared, Blue,’ said Piper, also noticing the shift in his tone. ‘Guess he thought we wouldn’t get this far.’

Marcus nodded in response and they carried on, their determination bolstered. Ahead of them, a laser turret began to open up, starting its descent from the ceiling above. His reflexes sharp, Marcus fired the shotgun before the turret had fully opened, causing it to fall to the ground in a ball of flame.

An armoured door stood before them with a terminal beside it. Through the thick cage, Marcus could see a large stockpile of weapon crates and ammunition boxes.

‘I believe this is the armoury, Sir,’ said Codsworth. ‘Perhaps we should take a look before continuing on. You never know what we might find.’

Marcus brought up his Pip-Boy interface and scrolled to the ‘Fort Hagen Armoury Password’, inputting it into the locked terminal. After validating the code, the door swung open, the maglocks booming loud against the silence.

Codsworth offered to stand guard outside whilst Marcus and Piper took stock. Marcus began opening some of the ammunition boxes, finding high calibre rounds for Reason and a few shells for the shotgun. Piper made her way to a sturdy door, behind which lay even more ammunition. Rummaging through her satchel, she produced a single bobby pin, holding it up triumphantly.

‘Now let’s see…’ she mumbled, concentrating on the lock, twisting the thin metal pin with the ease of experience. ‘…what you’re hiding.’

The lock clicked as she rotated the chamber fully, and the door creaked slightly as she entered the small storage area.

Shelves were lined with neat rows of loose ammunition and they looked over the stack of weapons with awe. From plasma rifles to flamers, missile launchers to miniguns, it was clear that the fort had been well stocked before the war. A large weapon to their left caught Marcus’ eye and his eyes widened as he saw what it was.

‘That’s… that’s a Fat Man’ he exclaimed, pointing to the large launcher. He glanced over to see Piper eyeing his surprise with suspicion. He had almost forgot that he had yet to tell her about his time in the vault and the fact that he was a soldier back when the term actually meant something; before the Great War.

‘Seems a shame to just leave it here,’ she said, her gaze back to the weapon. ‘I’ll bet Arturo would pay a lot of caps for that baby.’

‘Forget the caps,’ said Marcus, scoffing. ‘Could you imagine the firepower this thing has? You could take out deathclaws as easily as picking off radroaches.’

He ran his hand along the dusty metal rail, along the exposed firing mechanisms, and gently laid it on the miniature nuclear payload which served as ammunition for the immense weapon. He regretted not being able to lug the giant gun out of the armoury, but whilst he wore anything short of power armour, it was just too much of a strain. He shook his head as they took some more ammunition before leaving the armoury, thinking on how secure Sanctuary would be with a Fat Man protecting its walls.

Regrouping with Codsworth, they made their way past an open door, and peering inside, found a lavish bedroom. A large double bed lined with luxurious, if slightly worn, silk. There was an antique armoire and holotape player beside the drinks cabinet. Marcus frowned as he compared the extravagant bedroom to the frugal bunkroom he had explored earlier in the fort.

‘Must’ve been an officer’s room,’ he said, barely hiding the disdain in his voice. When he had served in Anchorage, he saw first-hand how power could corrupt so easily. He had seen friends and comrades, brothers in arms, promoted, and watched as the sudden power had slowly changed them. As a sniper, his interactions with those above his station were thankfully few and far between, but they were more than enough to leave a lasting impression. ‘I’m sure the grunts were happy knowing how well their commander slept.’

‘That’s the way of the world, Blue,’ said Piper, nodding her agreement with him nonetheless. ‘I mean, look at Diamond City. McDonough doesn’t care about us. He just makes sure to please those Upper Stands snobs and then give them majority vote.’

It was his turn to nod his assent.

‘The world may have changed,’ he thought. ‘But people are still people.’

They left the officer’s room behind them and carried on into a small recreation room, with a few tattered sofas laid out in front of a low coffee table. A broken television set rested on a cabinet and again, Marcus noticed the disparity between ranks.

Before any of them could say anything however, two laser turrets started to lower, unfurling from their metal shells. Piper and Marcus reacted quickly and fired. The shotgun blast quickly took care of one of the turrets whilst a few accurate shots from Piper destroyed the other.

Moving over the broken turrets, they entered a large, circular room, adorned with pre-war flags and equipment. There was another double bed, along with many other amenities piled around the room. Judging from the level of security required to reach the room, Marcus guessed that it belonged to the general assigned to the fort.

There was an armoured maglock door before them and looking around, they found no sign of a terminal or mechanism to open it.

‘It seems our progress has been impeded once again,’ said Codsworth, his eyestalks still rotating around the room to find some way to access the door. ‘Shall we try to find a way around, Sir?’

Before Marcus could reply, Kellogg’s voice crackled through the speaker above the maglock door.

‘Okay, you made it,’ he began, sighing. Something about his voice seemed strange to Marcus, almost lifeless. ‘I’m just up ahead. My synths are standing down. Let’s talk.’

The maglock opened with a thud and the door swung open, revealing a short, dim corridor beyond. Marcus and Piper exchanged glances, readying their weapons as they slowly walked forward. Codsworth hovered behind them, his eyestalks focused both behind and ahead, all three of them expecting a trap.

Around the corner, there was another maglock door, which opened at their approach. They stepped through and entered sheer darkness. The door boomed, breaking the silence as it slammed shut behind them. Suddenly, spotlights clicked on and flooded the room, blinding them for a moment.

As his eyes adjusted to the sudden illumination, Marcus made out vague outlines moving mechanically before them. As they walked towards him, he noticed how they had their weapons lowered but kept his ready. His eyes now fully adjusted, he saw a large command room filled with consoles and computers.

He could see three synths. One was in a small section in front of him, enclosed by railings. The other two had walked around a set of consoles and flanking them on the right side. He eyed them warily as he walked forward, vaguely aware of Piper and Codsworth keeping their distance behind him, staying closer to the door to keep an eye on the synths.

Before he had reached the middle of the room, a figure stepped out from behind a console and began to stride slowly towards him.

‘And there he is,’ said Kellogg, walking slowly, his scarred visage focused on Marcus. ‘The most resilient man in the Commonwealth. Funny, I thought I had that honour.’

His voice was rough and gravelly, a deep commanding tone that sent a wave of anger through Marcus, causing his shotgun to twitch in his hands reflexively. The synths responded in kind, their rifles lifting an inch before dropping back down. Marcus thought about the synths and the threat they posed, not only to himself but to his companions. He lowered his shotgun and took a step forward, Kellogg – the man who had taken everything away from him – just a few feet away.

‘Let’s… talk’ said the grizzled mercenary, negotiation and social interaction clearly not a part of his skillset as he struggled to find the right words. Marcus stared at him with a vicious intensity, the memories of Vault 111 flooding his mind.

‘You fucking psychopath,’ he said, his voice rising as he struggled to keep his temper in check. ‘Give me my son. Give me Shaun! Now!’

‘Right to it then, huh?’ Kellogg said, seemingly unfazed by Marcus’ anger. ‘Okay. Fine. Your son, Shaun. Great kid. A little older than you may have expected, but I’m guessing you figured that out by now.’

Marcus’ scowl deepened as Nick’s hypothesis was proven right. He had taken Marcus to one side back in Diamond City, taking him out past the security barracks and up to an abandoned house at the edge of the city, where he had told him about how Kellogg had been seen in Diamond City with a ten year old boy. Marcus had refused to believe that so much time had passed since Shaun was taken, but was now forced to acquiesce. Kellogg continued.

‘But if you’re hoping for a happy reunion? Ain’t gonna happen, pal. Your boy’s not here.’

‘Tell me where he is, damn it!’ said Marcus, unwilling to accept defeat when he had come so far.

‘Fine. I guess you’ve earned that much,’ replied Kellogg, sighing. ‘Shaun’s in a good place. Where he’s safe, and comfortable, and _loved_. A place he calls home. The Institute.’

Marcus noticed the way that Kellogg emphasised the word ‘loved’, hoping to get a reaction, but forced down his rage to reply.

‘The Institute? Well I’ll find him, no matter where he is. Nothing will stop me. Not this time.’

‘God, you’re persistent,’ said Kellogg, grunting in supposed respect. ‘I give you credit. It’s the way a father should act. Not moping around feeling sorry for himself…’

Marcus again noticed Kellogg’s reference to his time at Sanctuary, ‘moping around’ instead of trying to find his son.

‘…but actually doing something. It’s the way I’d be acting if I were in your place, I like to think. Even if it is useless,’ he continued, shifting his stance subtly, his hand steadily moving to his strange satchel on his waist. ‘But I think we’ve been talking long enough. We both know how this has to end. So… you ready?’

Marcus took a deep breath as his grip tightened on his shotgun. The adrenaline began to surge through his body, sharpening his senses and giving his words extra impact.

‘I’ll make you pay.’

For a few heartbeats, it was if the world was still and time had stopped. Marcus could see a single bead of sweat fall from Kellogg’s forehead as his hand moved slowly towards the satchel, lifting the flap to expose a familiar mechanism. Marcus recognised it too late however, and by the time he had raised his weapon, Kellogg had twisted the dial and activated the stealth boy, encapsulating himself in a bubble of invisibility.

In a blur of motion, the synths raised their own rifles, and began to fire, repeating the same phrase over and over again.

‘Initiate Directive Sigma Omicron – Protect Kellogg.’

Unable to find his original target, Marcus switched to the synth ahead of him, trusting Piper and Codsworth to take care of the two behind. He fired a shot but the enhanced agility of the synth enabled it to dodge the shell with ease, ducking low and firing back. Marcus took cover behind a nearby console and engaged one of the synths targeting his companions.

Attacking it from the flank, he scored a clean hit, shearing the polymer chestplate clean off, sending the flaming fragments flying. With one down, Piper and Codsworth quickly dispatched the other, with Piper firing into its arms to stop its attacks whilst Codsworth went to work with his bladesaw attachment.

Victorious, the trio turned their attention to the final synth. Marcus flanked around the console, still wary of the unseen threat of Kellogg, as Piper provided covering fire from the front. As the synth turned towards him, Marcus fired, but the synth dodged once again. As it raised its rifle to aim at him, its leg buckled as a bullet tore through it from the side.

‘Hit it now, Blue!’ called Piper, giving Marcus a window of opportunity to strike.

He took the opportunity as it came, blasting the immobilised synth and sending it across the room. He watched it absent-mindedly as it crumpled into a flaming heap. As he reloaded the shotgun, cracking the barrels to replace the smoking shells, his main focus was on the room around him, straining his ears to hear any sounds that would alert him to Kellogg’s position.

A gunshot echoed through the large room. A shot which sent shivers down Marcus’ spine.

‘The same shot that killed Nora’ he thought as he rushed to the source of the noise, hoping that Piper was safe. Emerging from the consoles, he found Codsworth slashing wildly at Piper, who was dodging with the elegance of a yao-guai on psycho. The scene would have been comedic if Marcus hadn’t known what Kellogg had done.

There were sparks coming from the small panel at the back of Codsworth’s shell.

‘His combat inhibitor’s been hit’ thought Marcus, remembering Sturges talking about the weak panel after he helped make small repairs to the old Mr Handy bot. As he moved to help Piper, he was knocked off of his feet, the air rushing from his lungs as he landed a few feet from where he stood, his weapon skidding across the floor.

Kellogg had disengaged the stealth boy and was standing over him, his pistol drawn. As he fired, Marcus rolled to his side, taking the bullet in his shoulder and kicking out to sweep Kellogg’s legs from under him.

With the adrenaline surging, Marcus barely felt the bullet lodged in his shoulder, but noticed an intense pressure severely restricting the movement of his left arm. Kellogg fell beside him, his legs giving way to the power of Marcus’ kick.

As they grappled on the ground, the mercenary quickly gained the upper hand, taking advantage of Marcus’ wounded shoulder and pressing into the bullet hole with his fingers.

Marcus screamed and bucked, trying to throw the scarred mercenary off him, the pain burning through his arm and chest. He felt Kellogg move beside him as he struggled to get to his feet. With his good arm, he reached for the combat pistol holstered at his hip but found nothing but a broken strap. Cursing, he finally got to his feet despite the excruciating pain throbbing in his shoulder, and looked around. There was no sign of Kellogg and Piper and Codsworth had been taken to the other side of the room by their altercation.

Unable to find his shotgun quickly, Marcus unsheathed the combat knife strapped to his leg and scanned the area. The consoles were good cover and he knew that Kellogg would be waiting to strike. Holding his knife ahead of him, he turned slowly, his mind racing.

He knew that Kellogg was the superior combatant. He had thought that perhaps his years as a soldier had prepared him for the Commonwealth’s most dangerous mercenary but he was wrong. Something about Kellogg was somehow off. Marcus thought back to how he had appeared out of nowhere, ramming him aside and standing over him with his pistol drawn the next moment.

‘The way he moves, the way he just shrugged off my punches,’ Marcus thought. ‘Something’s not right.’

His thought were interrupted however, when he saw Piper running over to him, with Codsworth in slow pursuit. Before she could reach him, Kellogg leapt from behind one of the consoles, but this time, Marcus had anticipated the attack. Twisting his hips, he used his body weight to push Kellogg, using his own momentum against him. As he went to fall however, he latched on to Marcus’ arm and swung himself around, somehow managing to keep his balance.

Marcus noticed how mechanical some of his movements were but before he could follow the thought further, he found himself once again on the defensive. He was tiring quickly and he was beginning to feel each blow as they connected more and more. His right arm was now completely useless and hung limply at his side, whilst he fended off the brunt of Kellogg’s with his left, the combat knife still held in a vice-like grip.

As Marcus’ remaining stamina faded, the seemingly tireless Kellogg landed a sucker punch straight in his jaw. As he fell, he felt the world tremble slightly and grow dim, as the ground came up to meet him. He landed with a thud and it was as if his body was completely numb.

He vaguely noticed shouting but the voice seemed distant and quiet to his ears. Dim figures danced before his eyes, a woman in a red leather coat running past a bald man with scars, a robot following, switching targets to attack the man, before pursuing the woman once again. A voice shouted, loud and clear, cutting through the fog that had gripped his mind. A voice he recognised.

Piper.

‘Now, Blue! Get him now!’

On the precipice of consciousness, he fought to regain control of his broken body, and with the last ounce of strength left in him, he threw himself into Kellogg. As his vision cleared, he realised that Piper had lured Codsworth over to them, hoping that in his frenzied state, he would attack Kellogg. Looking at the deep gash at the top of his thigh, Marcus knew that her assumption had been correct.

Staring down at Kellogg, he realised he still held the combat knife. He let his rage take control and let his body react, his left arm extending as he brought the knife down, plunging it deep into Kellogg’s chest. The dying mercenary let out a muffled cry as the blade twisted.

Marcus stared into his eyes as he watched the life drain from him.

‘This is for Nora’ he whispered, leaning close. He pulled the knife, feeling the mercenary go limp and watching as his eyes turned dull and lifeless. Blood began to trickle from Kellogg’s mouth and Marcus slumped down beside him, before realising that Piper was still trying fend off the crazed Codsworth.

Struggling to get to his feet again, he made his way over to where she was dodging the bladesaw, trying to flick the small switch on the side of the Mr Handy bot. Marcus came up behind the frenzied robot and tried to reach the switch, but one of the eyestalks turned and noticed him, and the claw appendage shot out, slicing through the air as it sailed past his face.

‘ _Hostile sighted_ … Sir, I seem to have lost… _Error_ … control of my combat systems’ said Codsworth, as his arms continued to flail around, swiping at both Marcus and Piper.

As the entire chassis rotated and the bladesaw attachment spun around, coming full circle to attack Marcus, he was able to dodge low and get underneath the arm. He thrust his arm out, feeling the switch under his hand and flicking it. Codsworth’s arm stopped instantly and the eyestalks dropped, the entire robot falling slowly as the thruster decreased its power.

‘Low-power mode’ Marcus explained, breathing heavily as he watched Codsworth hover three feet off the ground, still and silent.

Piper looked around and spotted Kellogg laying in a small pool of blood not far from them. She took in the scene before turning to Marcus, her face solemn and her expression grave.

‘Blue, are you okay?’

Everything had happened so fast that he hadn’t had time to process anything.

‘Kellogg’s gone,’ he thought. ‘The man who killed Nora and took Shaun… but…’

He nodded, not really sure if he was truly okay or not. He had avenged his wife but was no closer to finding Shaun. Kellogg said he was safe in the Institute, the boogeyman of the Commonwealth, but nobody knew where they were or even who they really were. After everything, he was no closer than he was before. He was right back where he began.

He sighed, closing his eyes and letting himself lean against the table behind him. He felt arms wrap around him and opened his eyes to see Piper’s patchwork leather cap brushing against his nose as her face was resting against his chest. He returned the embrace and they stood for a few heartbeats, neither of them breaking the hold or the silence.

Eventually, Piper released and looked at Marcus, a small smile on her face.

‘We’ll get him, Blue,’ she said, accurately guessing the source of his sadness. ‘No matter what, I promise we’ll find him. Besides, you have the best reporter in the Commonwealth by your side. If there’s something you need to find out, you can rely on Ol’ Piper. But we best get you patched up first.’

He smiled despite himself and put a hand on her shoulder as she nodded to his shoulder. The bullet had just grazed him, nothing more than a flesh wound, but it had started bleeding as soon as the adrenaline had run its course. Piper applied a stimpak and wrapped a small cloth around it, her expression becoming concerned as she saw how ashen his face had become. She was about to tell him to rest for a while, but he walked around the table to Kellogg's desk, desperate to find anything that could lead him to the Institute. Papers and reports covered the tables, depicting charts and figures and small location maps of the Commonwealth. He left Piper to sift through the documents as he examined the nearby terminal.

He found it unlocked and guessed that Kellogg never expected anyone to get so far into the fort. As he explored the files on the terminal, Piper read off some names from the various papers she held in her hands.

‘University Point, Boston Mayoral Shelter, Mahra Fishpacking Plant…’ she began, her eyes growing wide at the next name as she struggled to find the courage to say them. ‘…Diamond… City.’

She looked at Marcus, her expression grim.

‘Blue, do you know what this means? University Point was completely overrun by synths, I did a report on it a few years back. All these other must have been taken over too. Why is Diamond City on the list?’

‘Don’t jump to conclusions just yet,’ said Marcus, just as troubled at the thought of synth infiltration, remembering how easily they entered Sanctuary. ‘It could mean that the Institute was planning something, that’s all.’

She didn’t seem convinced and in truth, he didn’t expect her to be. He wasn’t sure if he believed it himself, but had bigger things to worry about. He scrolled through a report that piqued his interest and called Piper over to have a look.

‘It mentions ‘Renegade’ again. Just like the holotape,’ he said, remembering the holotape recording that Cynthia had given him, where Kellogg had mentioned ‘Renegade’. ‘I don’t know what it means, but it must be something important. Maybe it could even lead us to the Institute?’

She read the file and looked at him sceptically.

‘Now who’s the one jumping to conclusions, Blue’ she said, smirking.

Without warning, the fort began to shake around them, stopping almost as quickly as it began. Marcus remembered the feeling. He had experienced it before.

‘Woah, was that an earthquake?’ asked Piper, regaining her balance.

‘No,’ Marcus replied. ‘ _That_ was a vertibird.’

* * *

As they headed up to the roof, with the deactivated Codsworth in tow, Marcus readied his weapon, not knowing who, or what, to expect. As the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, he was raised his shotgun, and stared at the hulking figures with their own weapons pointed at him. He recognised the Brotherhood of Steel insignia emblazoned on the chestplate of their power armour and lowered his weapon, Piper hesitantly following his lead.

Taking a few steps out of the doorway, it was as if the fatigue of their entire journey, from Diamond City and the entire way through the fort, had caught up with him. His body felt drained of energy as he struggled to stay on his feet. A tall soldier, the commander of the Brotherhood squad, rushed forward to keep him upright.

‘Samson, Hart, escort the civilians onto the vertibird and take them back to the Prydwen,’ said the soldier, helping one of the Knights hold up Marcus as the other escorted Piper and Codsworth. ‘The rest of you follow me. Orders are to scout the fort, procure any tech, and secure the HVT. Let’s move out.’

Marcus sat in the vertibird with Piper, Codsworth, and the two Knights. One of them banged twice on the outside of the vehicle as she entered, whilst the other sat behind the minigun, eyeing the area below as they took off.

‘Looks like the Paladin wants you two back at the Prydwen,’ said the female Knight; Hart if Marcus had heard correctly. ‘You should get some rest, it’s a long ride.’

Piper began to argue, her fear of heights getting the better of her. Marcus was too drained to argue however, and simply drifted away, his last image of Piper leaning out of the vertibird to vomit.


	8. Ad Victoriam!

‘…and then the Minutemen came and saved them all?’

‘Not quite, but they did distract the raiders long enough for him to take them out.’

Marcus heard two voices as he woke. The latter he recognised as Piper’s Bostonian drawl, but the other was a mystery. From the fervour and tone of the other voice however, he could tell it was an excited child.

He opened his eyes and for a moment gazed blankly at the chubby face of a small cat, before realising it had been resting on his chest. He took care not to disturb it as he moved to get up, but a sharp pain in his right shoulder made him wince, sending his other arm up reflexively and causing the cat to scurry off his chest and out of the small room.

Piper walked over to the bed and laid a hand on his good arm.

‘Easy there, Blue,’ came her familiar voice, a warm smile on her face. ‘The doc said you’d still be a bit sore.’

He sat up more slowly this time and looked around. He seemed to be in a surgery of sorts, with medical equipment filling the surgical trays on the table beside him. There was a Brotherhood flag on the wall, next to black screens showing pictures of bones. He remembered riding the vertibird and realised where he was.

‘The Prydwen,’ he mumbled dumbly as he turned to Piper. ‘Why are we here?’

‘Beats me,’ she replied, taking a seat on the bed beside him. ‘Doc patched us both up and stuck us in here. Haven’t heard anything since.’

There was movement in the doorway and Marcus rose from the bed, his eyes darting over. Halfway down the doorframe, he noticed a small face peering around the metal edge. The boy stared intently, watching as Marcus stood from the bed.

‘It’s okay, this little guy was just keeping me company while you were out cold. Snoring and drooling _isn’t_ my idea of good conversation, you know,’ joked Piper, smiling as she walked over to the doorway. ‘Come on Burke, I’ll introduce you properly.’

The boy stepped into the sickbay, his gaze planted firmly on the floor as he shuffled inside the room, clearly nervous. After a few moments however, he seemed to steel himself, stepping forward and looking at Marcus. His face now in the light, Marcus took the time to examine the boy’s features.

His short-cropped copper hair was trimmed neatly, the undeniable military precision of the Brotherhood ever present. His piercing green eyes and smattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks reminded Marcus of Piper and as he looked, there was a slight resemblance, though the years in the Commonwealth sun had given Piper a darker complexion compared to a life lived aboard the gigantic airship. Piper laid a hand on his shoulder as she introduced them.

 ‘Burke, this is Blu… I mean, Marcus, the Sniper of Sanctuary,’ she said with a small flourish, causing Marcus to scowl but mesmerising Burke, his eyes widening. ‘Blue, this is Burke, he’s one of those…’

She scratched her head as she searched for the right word, when Marcus interrupted.

‘A squire?’ he asked. To his surprise, Burke’s eyes widened even further.

‘You… you know about squires?’ he said haltingly.

‘I heard about them from a few friends of mine,’ Marcus replied, remembering how Haylen had spoken at length about the Brotherhood hierarchy. He continued, warming to the conversation in an attempt to allay the young Squire’s fears. ‘They told me that the squires are the future of the Brotherhood and that only the strongest and the bravest children around are allowed to join.’

Burke’s nervous, wide-eyed stare vanished, replaced by a blissful expression as his chest swelled with pride.

‘Burke told me something pretty juicy before you woke up, Blue,’ she said, beaming at the pair. ‘Apparently you’re something of a legend around here. Well, to the squires anyway. He couldn’t stop asking about the Sniper of Sanctuary and all of his adventures.’

Marcus looked at the enthralled squire in front of him and smiled. About to continue the conversation, the memory of the battle at Fort Hagen resurfaced, and a pit formed in Marcus’ stomach.

‘Codsworth!’ he exclaimed, cursing himself for not thinking of the malfunctioning Mr Handy bot earlier. He turned to Piper. ‘Where is he?’

She looked at him blankly before a guilty expression crossed her face. They both turned to Burke with questioning glances, the young squire blanching under their gazes, his face growing ashen. Thankfully, at that moment, a man stepped through the doorway, registering surprise at the three people staring back at him. His eyes immediately went to the young squire, who somehow grew even paler.

‘Squire,’ called the man, prompting Burke to straighten up, snapping a crisp salute. ‘Knight Hart has been looking for you everywhere. I suggest you report to her on the flight deck.’

Burke released the salute and walked briskly out of the room, exhaling sharply as soon as he was beyond the threshold.

‘How that boy manages to slip away so easily is beyond me…’ he sighed, before clearing his throat, turning his attention to Marcus. ‘I’m Knight Captain Cade,’ he said by way of introduction. ‘I’m the chief medical officer aboard the Prydwen. How’s the shoulder?’

He gestured towards Marcus’ bandaged shoulder, where a small, crimson stain had begun to spread slowly across the cloth.

‘Still sore,’ replied Marcus, stretching his arm to find that he could move it without serious pain. ‘It’s getting better though. I guess I have you to thank for that?’

‘No thanks needed,’ said the Knight Captain, shaking his head before turning to Piper. ‘And I trust you’ve been keeping that leg elevated.’

She merely grinned as he shook his head once again.

‘Be glad you’re not initiates,’ he warned. ‘Either of you. I heard the Elder nearly blew a gasket when he learned that two civilians and a robot took on the Institute’s top mercenary.’

‘Where is Codsworth?’ asked Marcus, mention of the robot jogging his memory.

‘Codsworth, eh? I heard Ingram took him down to her grease pit. She wanted to fix up another Mr Handy model,’ said Cade. He saw the pair’s concerned expressions. ‘Don’t worry, he’s in good hands. Proctor Ingram is a marvel with machines. She’s kept this old rustbucket in the air for this long, a broken housebot should be a cakewalk.’

Marcus exhaled deeply, feeling slightly more confident that Codsworth was safe. Knight Captain Cade continued.

‘I’m glad you’re awake too. I’ve been ordered to escort you to the command deck. The Elder would like to… debrief you personally.’

Marcus dismissed the Knight Captain’s hesitation but Piper seemed more reluctant to fully trust the Brotherhood.

‘Debrief?’ she said, a wry grin on her face. ‘You mean… interrogation, right?’

Cade seemed flustered as he backed towards the door, his head poking into the hallway to look around, before walking up to the pair, his face close to theirs.

‘Look, the Elder _really_ wasn’t happy that you two got to Kellogg first,’ he muttered, his voice low. ‘My advice? Answer honestly and don’t make him suspicious. He’ll be looking for an excuse not to trust you. I mean, coming out of a fort full of synths, having just taken out the Institute’s top killer, with just a few scrapes and scratches to show for it? Well, I’d call that damn impressive, but the Elder is less trusting these days. Just be careful.’

Marcus thanked the Knight Captain for his advice but something still troubled him.

‘Why isn’t there more security around us?’ he asked, noting the way that Burke was able to enter freely.

‘The strangest thing happened,’ explained Cade. ‘A field scribe and a knight flew up here from some outpost and started defending you. They said they’d vouch for you and that you were a friend of the Brotherhood. And they showed the Elder those…’

He pointed at the holotag on the table beside the bed. Marcus picked it up and examined it, smiling as he read the inscription.

‘ _In Vitam. In Mortem. Semper Invicta._ ’

He remembered when Haylen had given him the holotag, giving him access to the Cambridge Compound before he made his way to Diamond City to find information on Kellogg.

‘It all feels so long ago,’ he thought to himself, recalling the carefree days he spent in Sanctuary. ‘It must have been Rhys and Haylen who flew up here to fight my case.’

He felt a warm rush of affection towards the pair and wondered how they knew that it was him who had been taken aboard the Prydwen.

‘Are they still aboard?’ he asked, fumbling his way into the T-shirt on the table as Piper shook her head wearily.

Knight Captain Cade paused, his brow furrowing before he answered.

‘They were heading out before I came here,’ he said. ‘If you hurry, you might catch them. But be quick. I’ll go and tell the Elder you’re on your way.’

The pair thanked Cade and followed him out into the hallway. Opposite the sickbay, Marcus glimpsed a room through an open doorway and saw the cat who was sleeping on his chest, resting on a desk. It watched him and meowed lazily, nestling its head into its thick, velvety fur once again.

As they made their way to the ladder leading to the lower decks, Marcus heard a clamouring behind him, and turned to find a small mess hall full of Brotherhood soldiers, all raising their glasses towards him and cheering loudly.

‘Looks like everyone knows about Kellogg,’ said Knight Captain Cade, continuing towards the upper decks. ‘So much for compartmentalising information.’

‘Truth always comes out sooner or later’ declared Piper, smiling at her own journalistic integrity.

Marcus decided to indulge his curiosity once more, despite the Brotherhood’s reticence to share intelligence with civilians.

‘Why do you compartmentalise information?’ he asked. ‘With such a large force, keeping _anything_ hidden wouldn’t work for long.’

To his surprise, Cade answered, waiting until they were clear of the hallway and any patrols were out of earshot.

‘The Elder has been a bit… paranoid lately,’ he said, his voice low as he furtively glanced towards the stairs which flanked the hallway they had just left. ‘He’s worried about us being infiltrated by the Institute. Being in the Commonwealth for so long without any _real_ intel on what we’re up against has got everyone on edge. I’ve had to deal with more cases of hysteria than I’d care to admit. But the Elder? He’s been… different. No-one has seen him leave the command deck in over a week. Anytime someone goes in, he just stares at them… through them, I don’t know…’

He faltered, straightening up as a knight in full power armour strode past, the floor beneath them shaking slightly with each thunderous footfall. As the knight passed, Cade’s openness was gone, replaced by nerves.

‘I… I’ve said too much,’ he stuttered. ‘Please. Don’t repeat anything you’ve heard.’

Marcus and Piper exchanged glances before nodding their agreement, following Cade up the ladder in silence. He pointed them to the flight deck, reminding them once more to be quick, before heading in the opposite direction, towards the command deck.

The pair exited through the thick, armoured door, and were immediately greeted by an icy breeze. Marcus shivered as he began to descend the metal stairs. He turned to find Piper still at the top, her hand gripping the railing tightly as she stared with wide eyes over the edge of the deck, to the Commonwealth far below. He remembered her fear of heights and called up to her.

‘Why don’t you stay there?’ he said. ‘I’ll go see if I can find Rhys and Haylen. You just take it easy.’

‘Yeah…’ she replied meekly, her eyes leaving the distant ground to focus on him. ‘I’ll just stay here. You… you won’t be long, right?’

He shook his head and was relieved when a young woman, barely out of her teens, passed him and made her way up the stairs to offer Piper a seat and take her mind off the altitude. She turned and nodded to Marcus, flashing him a beaming smile before returning her attention to Piper.

He was grateful for her aid and left the woman with Piper as he walked along the flight deck. Rows of vertibird bays flanked him as he passed, the occasional knight or scribe giving him a glance before resuming their work. A few even cheered as he walked past them, raising their tools in triumph and laughing boisterously.

He had barely walked ten feet when a voice called out from one of the vertibird bays to his right.

‘Marcus!’

He recognised the voice instantly as Scribe Haylen and turned to see her head poking out of the vertibird. She clumsily clambered out of the vehicle and hugged him, squeezing him tightly. He winced in pain and she eased off, a disapproving look on her face.

‘You said you were going to Diamond City and the next thing I hear is that you took on a fort full of synths by yourself?!’

She began to punch his good arm as he protested and she eventually let up her barrage.

‘It’s a long story,’ he said, wincing at Haylen’s vicious assault. ‘Besides, I wasn’t alone. I had help from a few friends and synths aren’t _that_ tough.’

‘Okay then, hotshot,’ she replied, his bravado falling on deaf ears. ‘How come when I asked to see you earlier, Cade said you were still knocked out, dribbling into your pillow?’

A grin crept across her face and they both laughed, glad to see each other safe. As he was about to speak, Marcus remembered the reason why he wanted to come to the flight deck.

‘How _did_ you hear about it, anyway?’ he asked.

Before she could answer however, heavy footsteps interrupted her as a large soldier in power armour rounded the vertibird and headed their way. The figure stopped just short of the pair and turned to Haylen.

‘ _We need to get going,_ ’ said the voice, heavily distorted by the helmet. ‘ _The ‘birds packed and ready for take-off._ ’

Despite the distortion, Marcus recognised the gruff timbre of the voice, and almost laughed at the fact that he hadn’t recognised Haylen’s companion sooner.

‘Knight Rhys,’ he said, nodding to the power armoured soldier. ‘It’s good to see that you’ve recovered.’

He remembered the last time he had seen the Knight, limping away towards the Red Rocket Outpost, the victim of a vicious mole rat attack.

‘ _Thank you civilian_ ’ came the reply, Rhys’ gaze still pointedly fixed on Haylen.

‘Play nice, Rhys,’ said Haylen. ‘Give me a few minutes, I’m sure the pilot will wait…’ She reached up and unfastened a small clamp at the base of his helmet. ‘…and take off your helmet. We’ve got a long flight ahead of us and you know how you get when you wear power armour for too long.’

He sighed before unfastening the other clamp, a small hiss of pressurised gas venting from the back of the armour as he lifted it off. He clipped it onto his hip, and stood ready.

‘ _Command: Release_ ’ he said, loosening his stance. The suit began to retract, peeling itself apart from the back, allowing him to exit. He turned the wheel at the back to tighten the armour as it closed once again.

Two initiates walked towards them, jostling each other good-naturedly until they caught sight of the sullen knight. They snapped a crisp salute and attempted to hurry past, but Rhys was too quick. He barked an order for them to secure the power armour inside the vertibird and watched as they began to tie the metal suit onto a loading pallet.

Marcus remembered his original question again and turned to face Haylen, only to find her examining his profile. She looked at him quizzically.

‘Something about you is different,’ she said, her brow furrowing. ‘You seem… softer than before.’

He thought for a moment, staring back at Haylen.

‘Kellogg took my family from me,’ he said, deciding to trust the field scribe. ‘He killed my wife and kidnapped my son. Maybe now that he’s gone, I can focus on finding Shaun.’

‘I’m sorry, Marcus. I knew something had happened to you, but I never thought…’ her voice trailed off as she shook her head softly. ‘But it’s not that. It’s something else,’ she continued, looking over his shoulder to watch Piper as she twiddled her thumbs, trying everything to take her mind off the flying airship. ‘Or maybe it’s _someone_ else?’

Marcus smiled despite himself. Haylen had always been perceptive. Back at Sanctuary, whenever he visited the Red Rocket Outpost to trade, he often found her staring at him with a sad expression; almost as if she knew something of his troubled past.

‘Piper,’ he said, turning to look at the reporter before returning to Haylen. ‘Yeah, she’s… uh… we’re not…’

‘You should go back to her,’ interrupted Haylen, echoing Marcus’ message to her regarding Rhys, back in Concord at the start of his journey. ‘Make sure she’s okay. She looks terrified over there.’

‘Thank you,’ he replied. ‘I should get back anyway. Elder Maxson should be ready to… debrief us.’ he said, unsure of whether or not he was walking into an interrogation.

‘You’ll be okay. The Elder can be tough, but he’s fair. See you back at Sanctuary?’

Marcus nodded, smiling, and they hugged a final time before she made her way around the vertibird. He made for the stairs, back towards Piper, when a strong hand gripped his shoulder. He turned, expecting to see Haylen come to offer a final farewell, and was surprised as he turned to face Knight Rhys.

‘Look, I know I uh…’ his voice trailed off as he began again, clearing his throat. ‘Taking down Kellogg wasn’t an easy thing. We’ve lost a lot of good people to that bastard, and getting rid of him was a big step for the Brotherhood. I know you’re not a brother, but… maybe I was wrong. What I’m trying to say is… I’m sorry. For how I’ve been. Maybe you’re not that bad.’

Marcus stood there for a moment, aware of how embarrassing the situation was for the surly knight, and felt emboldened by his courage.

‘Thank you, Rhys,’ said Marcus, extending his hand. ‘Means a lot. I’ll see you back at Sanctuary.’

The knight shook his hand and smiled gratefully, a rare expression that brought new life into his rough face.

‘See you there, Marcus.’

As the knight joined Haylen aboard the vertibird, Marcus realised that he had called him by his name, rather than his trademark nickname of ‘civilian’. He laughed softly as he returned to Piper.

‘Come on,’ she said to him, eager to leave the flight deck as she stood from her chair. ‘We should hurry. Cade said he’d only be able to get us a few minutes.’

With that, the pair entered the armoured door once more and headed straight for the command deck.

* * *

The Elder stood with his back to them, staring out of the panoramic window which stretched across the front of the giant warship, looking out at the ruined vista of the Commonwealth. They had entered the command deck and Cade had told them to take a seat at the small table in the middle of the room, before leaving. Sat at the table, Marcus noticed a folder before them as they watched the Elder for any signs of movement. He stood completely still, his battlecoat flowing, giving him an almost regal appearance. He sighed before turning to face them, allowing Marcus the opportunity to study his features.

His hair was neat, close-cropped on one side, and brushed to the other. Despite his youth, his cheeks were rough and lined, with dark circles under his eyes. His beard was trimmed to a point below his chin, giving his face a chiselled, angular quality. His most prominent feature was a large jagged scar running down his right cheek, starting just under his eye and curving downwards, getting lost in his beard halfway down.

Marcus had heard the stories. Back in the Capital Wasteland, the young Squire Maxson had found himself away from the Brotherhood squad he had been assigned to, lost in the ruins of downtown D.C. As he made his way through the desolation, a roar from the streets behind him made his blood run cold, and he watched in terror as a gigantic clawed hand gripped the concrete corner of a building, pulling a large creature into the open street.

Using his small size and speed, he was able to dodge the deathclaw’s charge, sliding between its legs despite the fear gripping him. Marcus had heard that he continued to hold the creature at bay for five minutes before the squad caught up and through their combined fire, killed the creature.

Marcus was uncertain whether the story was entirely true, but looking at the man before him, radiating power and strength, he knew the story couldn’t be far from the truth.

The Elder broke the silence.

‘I care about them, you know,’ he said, his voice soft. ‘The people of the Commonwealth.’

Marcus and Piper exchanged a glance. Marcus was unsure why Maxson was attempting to prove to them that he cared about the people of the Commonwealth, and Piper seemed sceptical, but held her tongue. They were hesitant to offer a reply, lest they offended the Elder in some way. A moment passed and it became clear that neither of them would speak.

‘I understand your indecisiveness,’ said the Elder, sighing. ‘Turning your weapons on the very same people that you’re trying to save can be a bitter pill to swallow. I realise the Brotherhood may be… misunderstood throughout the Commonwealth, but I hope you are willing to listen to reason.’

The last word caused Marcus to flinch reflexively, reaching for the rifle that was always strapped to his back, but finding nothing but the seat behind him. The Elder cleared his throat and continued in a stronger voice.

‘Now, to the matter at hand,’ he said, reaching for the folder on the table in front of him. He opened the file and flicked through a few pages, nodding his assent as he turned his attention back to the pair. ‘Why were you at Fort Hagen?’

His tone was decidedly neutral, but Marcus could sense something more behind it. Piper looked at him and he knew the question was his to answer. He decided that honesty would serve them best given the situation.

‘We were there to find my son, Shaun,’ he began. ‘Kellogg kidnapped him and… killed my wife.’

Piper notice him falter and laid a hand on his, smiling to bolster his courage. Maxson stroked his beard, looking at Marcus thoughtfully.

‘I know it must be painful,’ he said. ‘But I need to know everything. Any hint of what Kellogg was doing could benefit the Commonwealth greatly.’

Faced with no other options, Marcus recounted the fictional tale he had told Piper in the interview, beginning with his “life” in the Capital Wasteland, to the truth of their assault on Fort Hagen, with Piper adding her support at certain points. Throughout the tale, Maxson’s gaze remained fixed on Marcus, his stony expression never fading and no trace of emotion present as he listened to the harrowing story. As Marcus reached the part where the two synths attacked him in Sanctuary, the strange gleam in Maxson’s eyes caused him to waver. For some reason, he decided to skip over the part where Cynthia infiltrated the settlement and spun a tale about how he had decided to resume his search for the man who took away his family, leading him to Diamond City, where Nick helped him locate his elusive quarry.

Maxson seemed disappointed somehow, as Marcus finished his story, ending with him and Piper exiting the fort with Codsworth in tow, and being rescued by the squad of Brotherhood soldiers. The Elder turned to the window once again and the pair could hear him flicking through the folder he held in his hands. After an uncomfortable amount of time, he turned and placed the folder back onto the table.

‘From Paladin Danse’s report, you entered Fort Hagen, took down an entire squadron of synths, and eliminated the Institute’s most feared mercenary,’ he said incredulously. ‘When I read the report, I was suspicious. No human could pull off such feats.’

A lump formed in Marcus’ throat as he grew nervous.

‘Does he think I’m a synth?’ he thought, looking at the way the Elder was watching them both. ‘What if he suspects Piper too?’

His mind raced as Maxson continued.

‘However,’ he began, alleviating Marcus’ worry with a single word, shifting his tone to one of grudging acceptance. ‘The overwhelming evidence presented to me by both Knight Captain Cade and the two soldiers from the Red Rocket Outpost, has led me to believe that you _are_ who you say you are.’

Marcus held back a sigh of relief but Piper still wore a sceptical expression, as if she wanted nothing more than to question the Elder rather than the other way around. Maxson continued.

‘I notice one thing from your story however. You made no mention of finding your child at the fort.’

‘Kellogg said that he had been taken to the Institute’ explained Marcus, clearly piquing Maxson’s interest.

‘And he gave no indication of where that is? Or how to get there?’ asked Elder Maxson, his voice becoming almost desperate.

Marcus shook his head and Maxson returned to his usual stoic expression, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he began to pace in silence. Piper took the opportunity to question the Elder, catching him off guard as he walked up and down the room.

‘Have you ever heard of the settlement at Tenpines Bluff?’ she asked, her piercing gaze meeting his own as he turned to face her, mid-step. He straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back, adopting a thoughtful expression before answering.

‘To my knowledge, it is a settlement east of the Red Rocket Outpost. Correct?’

‘ _Was_ ,’ came Piper’s caustic reply. ‘It _was_ a settlement. Brotherhood soldiers came by and decided that food was worth more than the lives of the settlers.’

‘I don’t know any-’ said Maxson, bristling at the reporter’s accusatory tone.

‘There was a brother and sister there, Jake and Penny. Just the two of them,’ she said, her voice growing. ‘Their home was destroyed by raiders and they were forced to rebuild. Tenpines Bluff was perfect. The Minutemen helped set up defences and they could grow their own food and live without fear.’

Marcus could see the fire in her eyes and wondered how long she had waited to confront the Elder. She hadn’t mentioned anything to him, and had seemed friendly enough with the members of the Brotherhood they had encountered thus far.

‘I’ve kept things from her,’ he thought, feeling guilty about hiding his true past from his trusty companion. ‘Seems fair that she has secrets too.’

‘A few Brotherhood soldiers decided to get some extra food, more than their rations,’ Piper continued, her voice steady but laced with venom. ‘So they threatened Penny, and when she didn’t give them what they wanted, they shot Jake in front of her. After they took the food, they destroyed the defences and took the turret targeting cards. Anything for technology, right?

‘Well, Penny had no choice but to leave the Bluff. She thought about heading to Sanctuary, but there was a Brotherhood outpost close by. She had to get through ghouls, raiders, and god knows what else, just to get to Diamond City.

‘And that… is on you.’

She finished, staring with fierce intensity at the Elder, who stood quietly, his calm demeanour unsettling.

‘Are you finished?’ he asked solemnly, a serious question to which Piper nodded in response, her cheeks beginning to grow red. ‘As I was about to say, I don’t know anything about that. I cannot be held responsible for the actions of a few soldiers, despite them ultimately being under my command. What you fail to grasp is the overall goal of the Brotherhood. We are here to save the people of the Commonwealth from the greatest threat they have ever faced… themselves. If a small number must be sacrificed to achieve peace, then that burden is ours to bear.’

‘What’s the point of trying to “save” people if they live in constant fear of you?’ asked Piper, her ire growing again. ‘The Minutemen are out there helping the people of the Commonwealth _without_ threats and bullying. You could-‘

‘I’m well aware of the… admirable efforts of the Minutemen,’ retorted Maxson, now his turn to interrupt Piper. ‘But their goals are ultimately short-term.’

His expression remained resolute but he seemed to soften slightly as he continued.

‘You have ideals and it’s clear that you’ll stand by them no matter the cost, but ideals didn’t stop the world from destroying itself through hubris and greed. We simply cannot afford to waste our time on such trivial matters on our path to preserve mankind.’

‘Can you even hear yourself?’ said Piper. ‘How can you still say you’re protecting humanity when you’re in your floating castle looking down at the people below? You’re so wrapped up in your “saviour of the Commonwealth” fantasy that you’ve forgotten what really matters. You’re no different to the Institute.’

‘We are _nothing_ like the Institute!’ shouted Maxson, his voice rising as he banged his fist on the table, punctuating his outburst. ‘The Institute have taken it upon themselves to play with forces beyond their comprehension, creating abominations which threaten our very existence. I’ve tried to explain the importance of our mission here, but it’s clear to me now that you won’t even listen to reason. Having heard of you publication and the fear and mistrust it spreads, I don’t know why I ever expected anything more.’

Piper had finally had enough and leapt to her feet, pushing back the chair and causing it to skid along the metal floor, falling with a loud clang. She began shouting at the Elder, pointing at him and gesticulating wildly, the fire in her eyes intense. Marcus wasn’t listening to her words however. His attention was focused solely on Maxson, who was clearly growing more incensed as Piper’s onslaught continued.

Marcus knew he had to do something as he watched the pair throw insults back and forth. He was about to intervene when the sound of the door slamming shut made them all turn, startled. A large man in power armour took a few steps forward, the floor shaking as he did so. His eyes scanned the room, resting on the fallen chair for a few moments before turning to the Elder.

‘Elder Maxson,’ he began, snapping a salute, his gauntlet thudding against the bulky chestplate. ‘Is everything alright, sir? I heard a commotion.’

Maxson straightened up, using the interruption to calm himself.

‘At ease, Paladin,’ he ordered, before turning to Marcus and Piper. ‘This is Paladin Danse. He was the commanding officer of the squad that found you at Fort Hagen.’

Marcus vaguely recalled the large man helping him stay upright and felt a sense of gratitude twoards the Paladin. Maxson continued.

‘The debriefing is over for now,’ he said. ‘There are other matters that require my attention before I decide what to do with you both. For now, I’m assigning you personal quarters here aboard the Prydwen. You’ll be allowed restricted access to the main deck and airport. The Paladin here will make sure you have everything you need.’

‘Sir?’ came the Paladin’s response, clearly confused by his orders.

‘Show them to their quarters and then report back to me,’ replied the Elder. ‘Dismissed.’

Maxson returned to his previous position by the window, staring out with his hands clasped behind his back, as the Paladin turned on his heel and began to walk towards the door.

‘Follow me, civilians’ came his deep, authoritative voice as he continued, not slowing down to wait for them. Marcus and Piper hurried after him, leaving the command deck behind as they followed him down the ladder to the main deck. Danse led them to a door not far from the ladder and opened it to reveal a large bedroom, sparsely decorated with little more than a desk, a few lockers, and a rusted safe. Empty ammunition boxes had also been stacked neatly in the corner of the room, next to a box full of files and loose papers.

As they stepped inside, Paladin Danse gave them a quick rundown of the layout of the deck, telling them where to find the clinic, mess hall, and grease pit. Marcus took the opportunity to thank him for rescuing them at Fort Hagen, whilst Piper stayed silent.

‘No thanks needed, civilian’ was his only reply. With nothing more to add, Danse excused himself and clambered up the ladder to the command deck.

The pair stood in silence for a moment before Piper spoke.

‘I… I need some air’ she said, her expression troubled as she left the room.

Concerned, Marcus followed her, leaving the room behind as he climbed the ladder and headed for the flight deck.

* * *

The sun had only just begun to set and golden rays of light shone through the clouds, giving the landscape a warm glow. Marcus stood beside Piper, both of them holding onto the railing as they stared out at the open scene before them. He noticed that her fear had been pushed aside, conquered for a brief time as she struggled to calm her mind.

‘I don’t trust them, Blue,’ said Piper softly, still staring out at the Commonwealth. ‘I don’t trust _him_. I’ve met radscorpions with less venom.’

She attempted a feeble laugh at her own joke and frowned as all she could muster was a sad smile. She continued.

‘I mean, their intentions are good enough, but they… just…’

She sighed as her voice trailed off and Marcus was content to stay silent, ready when she needed him. He knew her struggle.

He had always held a healthy mistrust of the Brotherhood himself, having encountered soldiers whose faith in Brotherhood doctrine bordered on fanaticism. He thought back to the stories some of the scavenging teams back at Sanctuary used to tell him about their confrontations with Brotherhood forces.

Some had merely been reluctant to interact with the scavengers, watching them for signs of aggression, whilst others had been outright hostile, threatening and even firing at the scavengers to distance themselves.

While their methods hadn’t always been the most ethical, Marcus understood the difficult choices which accompanied life in the military. He understood both sides of the argument.

Piper was right. Maxson and the Brotherhood could learn from the Minutemen, even going so far as to work together, bolstering both forces, increasing the Brotherhood’s waning reputation in the Commonwealth, and allowing them easier access to technology and resources. But Marcus also understood that sacrifices were sometime necessary in order to achieve peace.

‘But if what Piper said was true…’ he thought, remembering her story about the settlers of Tenpines Bluff. He pushed the thoughts from his mind and stood there, letting the gentle breeze caress his face.

‘We have to protect it,’ said Piper suddenly, her voice still quiet. ‘The Commonwealth. The people. We can’t let their goals get in our way. We have to try and make it better.’

Marcus stared at her and, not for the first time, found himself admiring her tenacity and resolve. She was talking about helping the people of the Commonwealth, no matter the cost, even in the midst of their own ordeal. He nodded and she turned back to the view, seemingly content to let the world drift by.

‘It’s beautiful isn’t it?’ she asked, gazing out at the desolate landscape, the beauty of the sunset almost masking the devastation.

Marcus gazed at her profile, half-silhouetted against the light and his mind went back two hundred years, to a small diner in the heart of Boston. He was on shore leave for a week and on his final day, decided to treat himself to a proper meal. He had ordered his usual and sat in the corner booth. He had turned his gaze from the window beside him to the booth ahead and found himself unable to look away.

A girl a few years younger than himself was staring at him with piercing green eyes. Her hair flowed past her shoulders, and in the midday sun, shone like flames. Smiling her perfect smile, she turned back to her law books, a light blush beginning to creep across her cheeks. He was captivated at that very instant and he felt a fire growing within him.

His mind back aboard the flight deck of the Prydwen, he smiled as he felt a familiar heat growing within.

‘Yes, it is’ he whispered, letting the wind take his words as his eyes remained on the plucky reporter from the Great Green Jewel.


	9. Old Hands, New Faces

Marcus groaned as he awoke, his joints aching. Turning to one side, he saw a large bundle of blankets on the bed and he wondered where Piper had gone. As he sat up in the gloom, a loud snore followed by an incomprehensible muttering emanated from the blankets and he grinned to himself.

He stood slowly, careful not to make any noise, and made his way to the door. Turning back, he looked at the bed, recalling the awkward conversation from the previous night, as they came back to their quarters and discussed their sleeping arrangements. Despite the large bed being more than big enough for both of them, he had happily slept on the floor, his time as a soldier acclimating him to sleeping in uncomfortable positions.

Leaving the room, he closed the door as gently as possible, careful not to disturb the regular snores coming from the blankets. The hall outside was almost completely silent, the rhythmic footsteps of a patrolling knight being the only sound Marcus could hear. He decided to head to the mess hall and began walking down the hallway, every step echoing in the near silence. Reaching the large, open area, the smell of food made his stomach growl – even if it was only a small bowl of watered-down porridge oats.

He took his bowl and glass of brahmin milk from the squire behind the counter, a lanky youth with a large scar across his left eye, going down to his jawbone. With Sanctuary situated next to a river, Marcus recognised the results of a mirelurk attack instantly, but refrained from commenting.

He thanked the boy, who beamed at him, his kind nature shining through, and took a seat at the corner table.

Nobody else was in the mess hall and the squire had gone back to reading a tattered comic book, so Marcus was able to enjoy a quiet breakfast, reflecting on the oddly joyful mood he had awoken in. Draining the dregs from the bowl, he heard footsteps approaching from the grease pit.

Paladin Danse walked alongside a knight, the pair splitting as they entered the mess hall, with Danse heading over to the serving area and the knight making for Marcus’ table.

She wore standard Brotherhood fatigues, lacking adornment beside the stitched insignia of a knight on her left arm. She had shoulder-length brown hair, accentuating sharp, beautiful features, giving her an angular beauty. Her cool, blue gaze settled on him as she neared.

‘So… you’re the one Burke’s been talking about,’ she said as she reached the table, her voice smooth and honeyed – a natural charmer. ‘The Sniper of Sanctuary.’

Marcus offered a hand and was surprised by the knight’s strength as she shook it.

‘Actually, I prefer Marcus’ he said, flashing a quick grin.

‘Marcus,’ she repeated, correcting herself. ‘Knight Hart… Nora. I was part of the squad that rescued you. How’s the shoulder holding up?’

Marcus blanched at the name but managed a weak smile as he replied.

‘Good,’ he answered, rolling his shoulder reflexively, feeling only a dull ache. ‘Thanks for helping us. I don’t know how we would’ve gotten out otherwise.’

‘Don’t mention it,’ she said, clearing her throat. ‘Actually, I came over to ask if you’d seen Burke?’

Marcus shook his head and Nora nodded slowly as if her suspicions had just been proven.

‘Never mind. Thanks anyway, I’ll probably see you around’ she offered as parting words, heading over to the paladin.

As he drank his milk, Marcus watched Knight Hart sidle up to the paladin. He noticed the way their words became soft when talking to each other, and their gaze lingered just a moment too long. He made a mental note and drained the glass of milk, watching absent-mindedly as the knight left, heading for the command deck. The paladin looked around for a moment as if assessing his surroundings, before making a beeline for Marcus’ table.

Placing the empty glass alongside the bowl and pushing away the tray they rested upon, Marcus took the time to examine Danse as he approached.

The paladin was a tall man, and even without his power armour, he was still a head taller than Marcus. His strong jaw was clenched, his eyes alert and unwavering as he walked, striding with purpose.

He was the Brotherhood of Steel incarnate.

‘Civilian,’ he said, greeting Marcus with a short nod as he reached the table. ‘I’ve been ordered by the Elder to… supervise you and your companion.’

‘You mean you drew the short straw and have to babysit?’ replied Marcus, flashing a small grin.

Danse scowled.

‘It’s a joke, Paladin,’ Marcus added with a chuckle. ‘I understand how this all works. You have two unknowns aboard your ship and you want to keep a close eye on them. Supervision, followed by thorough checks, so you can be sure that we aren’t threats.’

‘You seem to know a lot about Brotherhood protocol’ said Danse slowly, his scowl shifting as his eyebrows raised in surprise.

‘I went through the same thing at Red Rocket,’ he explained, using the excuse to keep his military life a secret. ‘Rhys and Haylen weren’t always so friendly… Rhys still isn’t.’

‘Knight Rhys is an exceptional soldier, civilian,’ came the paladin’s cold reply as he fixed Marcus with an icy stare. ‘The Elder has also ordered me to assess you.’ He glanced at the empty bowl on the table. ‘Follow me to the flight deck.’

With that command, the paladin began striding away from the table, Marcus following a few steps behind. He was led to the ladder up to the command deck, where Danse stopped as the patrolling knight began to talk to him. As he waited patiently for the paladin to finish his conversation, Marcus heard a noise from the room behind him.

Turning, he saw that the door was slightly ajar, and edged towards the opening to peer within.

A small grey blur flew out, racing past his legs and towards the mess hall, before turning into one of the side rooms.

‘Damn cat’ he mumbled, feeling his heart pound in his chest. Feeling his face grow hot, he felt lucky that the paladin had not noticed the Sniper of Sanctuary being terrified by a simple housecat. Seeing that Danse was still deep in conversation, he took the opportunity to glance into the room once more.

It was a relatively large room, big enough to hold a desk, a number of cabinets, and a double bed. Despite the organised clutter which was stacked high on almost every surface, the room seemed strangely empty, as if it had not seen any care for a long time. Even from the doorway, Marcus could see a thin carpet of dust over much of the room.

Glancing back to find Danse still talking to the knight, he edged slightly closer, leaning against the doorway as he examined the room in greater detail. He looked over the large gatling laser hung on the wall and the suit of power armour beside the bed, the heavy metal chestplate painted with a unique style he had never seen before.

His eyes finally settled on the seemingly mundane bedside table, where beside an almost-empty bottle of whiskey, stood a small picture frame. Marcus could barely discern the picture of a young woman with blonde hair before the door was slammed shut, Danse now looming over him, holding the handle.

‘No detours,’ came his only warning as he turned away. ‘ _Follow me_ to the flight deck, civilian.’

He watched as the paladin climbed up the ladder, clambering up the metal rungs with consummate ease, before following suit. He wondered about the woman in the picture before the cool morning air of the flight deck hit his face, clearing his mind instantly as he thrust his hands into his pockets and followed Danse further along the deck.

Reaching the end of the deck, they met with a short man wearing the trademark hat and armour of a field scribe. The scribe brought out a large case along with a pair of ammunition boxes, placing each on the ground carefully before saluting, turning on his heel, and leaving the pair in silence.

Danse shot Marcus a glance before opening the large metal case and holding Reason in his hands. He nodded to himself as he felt the rifle’s weight and checked the scope and balance. Seemingly impressed with the weapon, he held it out to Marcus, who stared at the gun for a moment before grasping it tentatively.

He held the weapon fondly, running a hand over the smooth barrel as he felt the familiar weight and grip once again.

He cocked an eyebrow at Danse as he settled into a neutral position, holding Reason in front of him.

‘The Elder’s orders were clear,’ he explained, walking over to the railing. ‘I’m to assess your combat and tactical capabilities. Clear?’

Marcus nodded, beginning to grow excited at the prospect of the challenge.

‘Outstanding’ came the paladin’s reply, his monotonous comment doing nothing to dampen Marcus’ growing enthusiasm.

He watched as Danse drew a pair of binoculars and began searching the ground for something. After a few moments, he nodded to himself once again and spoke, still holding the binoculars up.

‘There is a target down there,’ he said, pointing at the land far below. ‘How would you eliminate it?’

Marcus thought for a second before answering.

‘Lie prone, steady my heartbeat and breathing, and wait for the shot.’

‘What about a group of targets?’ said Danse, barely waiting until Marcus had finished his answer.

Again, he thought for a moment.

‘I would pick my shots carefully, making sure to take out any stragglers first,’ he answered confidently. ‘When they begin to search, I take the opportunity to change my vantage point, harassing them from all sides until they retreat or are eliminated.’

Danse’s brow creased.

He kept the binoculars glued to his eyes as he continued to ask similar questions, putting Marcus in a myriad of hypothetical situations.

Working as part of a squad, fighting against overwhelming odds, defending an objective, armed with only an assault rifle and combat knife.

His military background serving him well, Marcus answered every question posed, utilising his memories of his time in Anchorage as much as his boot camp training, earning another ‘Outstanding’ from the surly paladin.

With the tactical portion of the assessment completed, Danse finally lowered the binoculars and instructed Marcus to find the target below and eliminate it.

He took off his jacket and placed it on the cold metal before laying on his stomach. He opened the tripod and settled Reason, smiling as he eyed the target through the scope; a lone super mutant wandering about the coast, hefting a large sack of meat over one bulbous shoulder.

Slowing his breathing, Marcus felt Reason shift slightly in his hands as if it was eager to take the shot.

‘Not yet’ he whispered, adjusting his aim for distance, gravity, and wind appropriately.

He watched as the mutant lumbered through the thick mud, eyeing a pair of mirelurks suspiciously. It put the bag of meat down and drew a large sledgehammer, stomping menacingly towards the pair.

As Marcus saw the sledgehammer rise, he took the shot and watched as the mutant slowly slumped to its knees, eventually falling onto its face and causing a small crater in the soft sludge.

Danse turned to him, an unimpressed expression etched on his face.

‘Not a bad shot, civilian,’ he said. ‘But most of us don’t have the luxury of _that_.’

He pointed at the Pip-Boy strapped to Marcus’ left arm.

‘You think I took that shot with V.A.T.S?’ replied Marcus, smiling as he turned his head to the device.

He pressed a small button on the face of the Pip-Boy and plugged the connection into the socket on Reason. With V.A.T.S initialised and the device linked, he focused on one of the mirelurks, the Vault-Tec Assisted Targeting System giving the creature a digital green outline. Flicking between the different body parts, Reason made slight automatic movements.

Marcus focused on the mirelurk’s face and saw the Pip-Boy screen show the shot percentage.

_0% chance to hit target._

He tilted his wrist to show the screen to Danse, who raised an eyebrow but otherwise stayed silent. Testing the trigger, Marcus found that the device had locked Reason, stopping him from firing due to the low percentage.

He disconnected the Pip-Boy, turned off V.A.T.S, and focused once more on the mirelurk. Its claws twitched as it examined the corpse of the fallen super mutant as the other began tearing open the bag of meat. He focused on its face and adjusted his scope, waiting for the perfect moment before firing.

Pieces of shell flew out in a burst of liquid as the bullet tore through the creature’s exposed face. It fell to the ground next to the mutant as its partner devoured the contents of the meat bag.

‘Outstanding,’ came Danse’s monotonous praise as he swung the binoculars slightly to the left. ‘But there’s one left.’

Marcus grinned as he reloaded, lining up the shot as he had previously. As he moved his hand to fire, the cold breeze caused a dull throb of pain to lance through his injured shoulder, sending the bullet off-course and into one of the chunks of meat that had fallen into the mud, the mirelurk continuing its feast without pause.

Danse was silent but the ghost of a smile touched his lips as he placed the binoculars down on top of one of the ammunition boxes.

Marcus got to his feet and held Reason out, offering a challenge of his own.

Paladin Danse hesitated for a moment before accepting the rifle from him with a brisk nod and laying in the same position on the ground.

Marcus watched for a few moments as Danse placed the tripod down and tested the grip with an expert hand, before looking through the binoculars to find the remaining mirelurk.

Finished with its feast, the creature had wandered over to its fallen kin, pausing as it tried to communicate. Marcus heard a sharp exhalation followed by the muffled bark of Reason, and watched as the mirelurk toppled backwards in a grisly explosion of flesh and carapace.

A direct hit.

He pursed his lips into a thin line as the paladin got to his feet, his face simultaneously blank and full of smug expression.

‘Go ahead,’ said Marcus with a sigh, folding his arms across his chest as Danse frowned in mock ignorance. ‘What? No bragging? No “I am the great Paladin Danse and _this_ is my favourite spot on the Prydwen”?’

‘Soldiers don’t _brag_ , civilian,’ retorted Danse. ‘In the Brotherhood, we let our actions speak for us.’

Marcus’ mind turned to the previous day, when the soldiers in the mess had hailed him as a champion for killing Kellogg, using the excuse to spin their own tales of heroics in increasing levels of absurdity. He stayed silent however, and merely watched as Danse inspected Reason further, nodding in admiration once again.

‘A good weapon,’ he said, handing it back to its rightful owner. ‘Are the modifications your own?’

Marcus nodded, explaining how he requisitioned them from Diamond City’s resident gunsmith, Arturo. They conversed as the sun rose steadily above them, talking about their shared passion of weaponry.

He noticed how the paladin warmed to the subject, loosening the rigid stature he had become accustomed to. Together, they laughed and continued their friendly shooting contest, each advising the other from shared lifetimes of military service.

Marcus heard footsteps approach from the deck behind and turned to see Piper walking towards them, the squire from the previous day alongside her.

‘Didn’t interrupt anything, did I, Blue?’ she said, her signature grin already on her face.

‘Just talking shop with the paladin’ he replied, returning her grin and nodding to Squire Burke.

He noticed Danse stand to his full height beside him, his face losing the mirth and joy from their conversation with an almost mechanical swiftness.

‘Squire,’ he called. Marcus watched as Burke straightened, his arms straight by his sides. ‘Where is Knight Hart? I thought she requested your help at the airport?’

‘She was talking to Paladin Brandis,’ came the squire’s reply. ‘So I came up to the Prydwen to…’

Marcus saw the boy’s face flush as he desperately floundered for an excuse.

‘He came up to the Prydwen to show me around,’ said Piper quickly, flashing a quick glance down at Burke beside her. ‘I wanted to look around a bit so I needed a guide and Burke here was kind enough to offer.’

‘That won’t be necessary,’ replied Danse, raising an eyebrow slightly. ‘The Elder has instructed me to supervise you around the base. There is a vertibird already prepped to take us to the airport.’

He gestured to a nearby vertibird and Piper grew pale, swallowing her fear as she stepped onto the small ramp leading into the craft. Marcus began to pack away the ammunition boxes, but Danse held up a hand to stop him before waving over a pair of nearby initiates, who promptly took the boxes away.

Reason strapped to his back once again, Marcus followed Piper and Burke over the ramp and took a seat in the vertibird, the paladin close behind him.

The flight down took mere seconds, with guide rods leading the vertibird in a perfect path to the landing pad below. They disembarked and made their way through the ruins of the airport, past renovated sections which had been turned into makeshift quarters, training rooms, and supply depots.

Danse led the small group to the entrance of the base, passing by wandering Brotherhood personnel, who clapped their hands to their chests in salute.

With a nod from the paladin, Burke left the base and headed towards a covered portion of scaffolding, guarded by two imposing knights, miniguns held ready.

Marcus and Piper followed Danse away from the entrance, further into the complex. They entered what was once the waiting lounge, now just a large room with boxes of supplies stacked high until they brushed the metal rafters above. Small groups of Brotherhood scribes moved along the aisles of crates, cataloguing the various items within.

They had reached the middle of the room when a knight barrelled through the double doors and, spotting them, raced towards Danse.

Red-faced and panting for breath, the knight doubled over, his hands resting on his knees, before he spoke.

‘Paladin! Captain Kells has requested your assistance! We found Initiate Clarke in the underground system, he had been-‘

His voice stopped abruptly as he eyed Marcus and Piper.

Danse spotted the soldier’s eyes appraising the pair and excused himself, telling them to stay put as he left with the knight, heading out of the storage depot.

Piper immediately took advantage of his absence and began questioning a nearby Brotherhood soldier, somehow manifesting a notepad from thin air, and scribbling down his taciturn responses.

‘Thank you,’ she said as she put away the notepad and walked back to Marcus, leaving the bewildered soldier to his work. ‘Well, _that_ was… interesting. Never had a chance to interview an initiate before.’

After a brief pause, she continued, moving closer to Marcus to whisper in his ear.

‘So where should we go now?’

Her hair brushed his shoulder as she spoke, and the faint scent of sweet perfume reached his nose. He felt his face flush as he replied.

‘Go?’ he said, his frown disappearing slowly as he realised what she was asking. ‘The paladin told us to stay here. I don’t think the Brotherhood would take kindly to us wandering around.’

As if to prove his point, a pair of scribes walked by, their eyes burning hateful glances as they passed.

‘Sorry, Brother!’ came Piper’s sarcastic reply as she straightened up to her full height, snapping a crisp salute to her chest. ‘We must continue to be mindless drones in service to our glorious Overlord… I mean, Elder.’

Marcus laughed despite himself.

‘Fine,’ he eventually sighed. ‘But only fo-‘

His words were cut short as he found himself in her vice-like grip, moving towards a nearby doorway before he knew what was happening. The passage Piper led him down opened into a large room, a walkway stretching around, leaving an open space in the middle with stairs leading down to the lower floor. Cells were spaced around the walls on both floors, thick steel bars and hardened glass separating the isolated compartments.

Piper moved forward onto the walkway and began shifting from cell to cell. She peered into each as she went, keeping one hand on the cold concrete wall to find her way through the dimly-lit cell block.

‘Piper, I don’t think we should be here’ he whispered, frowning as he reluctantly followed. He looked into the first cell.

A man lay on a threadbare mattress held aloft by a metal frame chained to the wall. His hair and beard were overgrown and even through the darkness of the cell, Marcus could see that the man was dangerously emaciated, his pallid complexion and withered skin a testament to the horrors he had endured.

Moving on, Marcus saw several people in various states of dishevelment, all of them trapped in similar conditions. He continued onwards, slowly moving past the cells until he reached Piper, who was frozen in place at the end of the walkway, staring into the final cell.

Following her gaze, he looked into the cell and…

His blood ran cold.

Inside the cell, sat on the ground, was a small girl. With her head in her hands, her long, dirty blonde hair fell in a curtain, hiding her face from view. Sobs racked her petite frame and Marcus had to turn away, tears stinging his eyes as memories of Shaun flooded his mind.

He turned to see a tear flow freely down Piper’s face as she held her gaze.

‘How could they…’ she whispered. Her voice was so quiet that if Marcus had not seen her lips move, he would have thought it was his mind playing tricks on him. ‘Are… are you okay?’

She edged towards the cell, her hand outstretched. The girl’s sobs lessened as she lifted her head, her hair falling into place around her shoulders.

The pair recoiled instinctively.

The girl’s face was human at first glance, with typically mundane features, but as she came into the light, a grim truth was revealed.

A patch of skin from her left jawbone to her hairline was missing, the edges melted smooth. With the artificial epidermis torn away, Marcus and Piper could see the grisly network of cartilaginous polymer fused to the metal endoskeleton beneath. Her left eye had also been melted away, revealing the camera fitted with wires and circuitry exposed.

‘Please help me!’ cried the girl softly, whimpering as she got to her feet. ‘They think I’m a synth! I just want to go home and see my daddy!’

The pair could only stare at the girl as she implored them further. With no response, she gave up, throwing herself onto her mattress in despair. They made to leave, heading down the stairs.

Her cries followed them.

* * *

‘She didn’t know she was a synth, Blue.’

Piper stood at the base of the stairs, with her back against the cold concrete wall. She pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing.

‘Do you think they were all…’ her voice trailed off, her next words unnecessary. Marcus had been wondering the very same thing.

A silence descended upon the pair as they both lost themselves to their thoughts.

The sound of voices reached Marcus’ ears and he broke out of his reverie. Nudging Piper, they moved towards the source of the noise, sticking to the shadows by the walls to avoid detection. As they neared the end of the room, they noticed a metal door that was slightly ajar, a thin beam of light filtering through the gap and illuminating swirling motes of dust in the air.

The voices came from within.

‘...shouldn’t be back for a while’ came the first voice, deep and mellifluous. Marcus mentally appreciated the tone of the man; a natural orator.

The second voice was much quieter, and despite their best efforts, neither of the pair could discern any distinct words.

‘You kiddin’, DB?’ replied the first voice. ‘If Des knew I was here, I’d be on dead drop duty for the rest of the year. Couldn’t leave you all alone though, right? Besides, you would’ve crumbled in here without me to keep you going strong.’

There was a quiet laugh from both voices.

Marcus edged closer to the doorway, suddenly intrigued by the coded nature of the messages. As he leaned against the wall, Reason knocked the concrete, sending a clang echoing around the silent room.

The laughter died.

The air grew cold as Marcus held his breath, tension mounting as the seconds ticked by. The voices remained still, neither of them making a sound.

Piper watched the doorway with an inscrutable expression, a strange mixture of fear and curiosity.

As Marcus exhaled sharply, the door swung wide and the pair were blinded by a bright light.

‘Who are you? What are you doing here?’

Marcus recognised the tone of the first voice as he scrambled for an answer.

‘We were being escorted by the paladin but we must have wandered down the wrong corridor…’ was all he could manage, his hand over his eyebrows to shade his eyes.

‘Wrong corridor, eh?’ said the voice, the man behind it slowly lowering the flashlight. ‘I woulda gone with something a bit more believable myself.’

As the light was removed, Marcus could see the man clearly.

Of average height and build, he was clad in a Brotherhood flight suit, the distinct chevrons of a knight emblazoned on the shoulder and chest, above the name “Taylor” in neat, black stitching. His features were plain and undistinctive, but Marcus had a strange feeling that he had seen the man before.

He was about to address Knight Taylor, but Piper was a second quicker.

‘Have you ever been to Diamond City?’ she asked, seemingly mirroring Marcus’ own thoughts. ‘You look familiar and I have a good memory for faces. Comes with the job.’

The knight seemed to hesitate before speaking.

‘Yeah, I mighta been out there on patrols. Look, you two aren’t supposed to be down here. Go back the way you came and wait for the paladin there.’

‘What are _you_ doing here?’ asked Piper, raising an eyebrow at Taylor’s curious behaviour.

‘Me?’ he said, cracking a winning smile and raising his arms to the surrounding walls. ‘I was just looking at swatches for the walls. Why the Elder insists on grey is beyond me. I was thinking something with a little more _pop_! Like yellow… or green.’

‘Swatches? Really?’ came Piper’s reply. ‘So who were you talking to?’

At this, Taylor seemed to falter for a moment, his eyes flicking to the side before answering.

‘I was… interrogating a prisoner’ he said, the smile remaining despite his fumble. He stepped back slightly, into the doorway he entered through, and turned his head, motioning for the prisoner to step forward.

Slow footsteps on concrete preceded the appearance of the prisoner, a tall, slender man with a gaunt face and sunken eye sockets. He was dressed in a blue patchwork jacket and slacks, a dirty brown flatcap finishing the ensemble.

Knight Taylor continued.

‘ _This_ is who I was talking to…’ he said, gesturing to the prisoner. ‘Not that it’s your business anyway. Brotherhood policy not to divulge sensitive information… and all that stuff.’

Piper straightened up, ready to barrage the knight with more questions, but Marcus had one of his own.

‘Have you ever been to a settlement to the west, Knight Taylor? A small town called Sanctuary. It’s next to the Red Rocket Outpost,’ he said, his building curiosity finally getting the better of him. ‘I have a feeling I’ve seen you around.’

‘Do you two want a map of my patrol routes? Or should I tell you every place I’ve been to?’ Taylor replied, taking the prisoner by the arm to the open cell nearby. Marcus noticed a glint in his hand but dismissed it.

He closed the cell door and locked the prisoner inside, before turning back to the pair.

‘Well, I can’t say this hasn’t been fun, but I have business to attend to,’ he said, checking his watch and nodding in satisfaction. ‘I suggest you leave before the paladin comes looking for you. You shouldn’t be down here, remember?’

With a wink, he donned a pair of aviator sunglasses and left through the door he had entered from, closing it behind him with a resounding clang. Marcus heard the clink of the lock as it fell into place and turned to Piper, who was staring at the door with a curious expression.

‘Somehow, I don’t think “Knight Taylor” was supposed to be down here either,’ she muttered. She turned to the cell behind Marcus, gesturing to the prisoner with her head. ‘Let’s see what he knows.’

‘Don’t you think we should get back to the paladin?’

‘Sorry, Blue. Can’t pass up an opportunity like this,’ she replied, flashing a quick grin as she passed him. ‘ _You_ can go back to the paladin if you want? Maybe he can show you _his_ gun this time.’

Marcus smiled despite himself, following Piper against his better judgement.

‘You sound jealous’ he quipped as they reached the cell.

The prisoner within eyed the pair with suspicion, his ashen complexion giving his face a shadowed, recessed appearance. Piper took out her notepad.

‘Why are you-‘

‘You’re not Brotherhood,’ stated the prisoner calmly, interrupting Piper mid-question. ‘Who are you?’

‘I’m Piper and this is Marcus. We’re here to find out more about the Brotherhood. Can you tell me your name?’

The prisoner chewed his lip as if debating whether or not to divulge such sensitive information.

‘They call me Drummer Boy,’ he said, the hesitation belying his calm demeanour. He turned to each of them in turn. ‘You’re the Sniper of Sanctuary, right? It’s funny really, I got caught coming to recruit you and here you are!’

Marcus’ brow furrowed in confusion. Before he could voice his concerns however, Drummer Boy turned to Piper.

‘And you. Piper… Wright? Journalist extraordinaire from the Great Green Jewel?’ Piper beamed at the recognition, but it was short-lived. ‘Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused with your fearmongering?’

Her expression dropped as he continued.

‘” _The Synthetic Truth”_! As if synths didn’t have enough to worry about, with Institute coursers chasing them and danger around every corner. Now, the entire Commonwealth is suspicious… and that’s before they even escape.’

Piper bristled. As the man’s words sunk in however, realisation dawned.

‘You’re with the Railroad!’ she exclaimed, growing excited at the story of the century.

Marcus had heard of the Railroad, but they had only been whispers of rumours; never any concrete facts. The traders back at Sanctuary had often shared stories of the shadowy organisation working behind the scenes to protect synths. His mind turned to the synth girl in the cell upstairs and he felt bile once again rising in his throat.

Loud footsteps sounded on the walkway above, making their way to the stairwell. Drummer Boy backed away with a small smile, retreating into the dark cell as Marcus and Piper realised there was nowhere to go.

They turned to see Paladin Danse approaching from the bottom of the stairs, flanked by a group of knights, clad in power armour as they led a prisoner in shackles.

‘What are you two doing here?’ he growled, his signature scowl painted on his face. He stopped before them as the knights led the prisoner to a cell. ‘This area is strictly off-limits!’

Piper began to argue, but the paladin's expression made her voice catch in her throat. He continued, turning to Marcus with a disappointed glare.

'I thought that _you_ could at least follow orders... civilian,' he said, his words dripping with venom. 'Now, I expect you both to stay here while I attend to my duties.'

Leaving them both sufficiently cowed, Danse walked away, joining the other knights outside the cell. Piper gave Marcus a sidelong glance, noticing his troubled expression.

'What's wrong?' she asked, her grin spreading once again. 'Upset that you won't get to see his gun now?'

Her remark coaxed a small smile from him as he turned to face her.

'Still jealous then?' he replied sarcastically. His smile faded slightly as he spotted Drummer Boy pressed against the bars of his cell, staring at them from the gloom. 'What do you think they're going to do to him?'

'I don't even want to imagine,' she said, following his gaze. 'But whatever they have planned, something tells me he'll be just fine.'

* * *

After a few hours of exploring the airport base with their sullen chaperone, Marcus and Piper were glad to be back in their quarters, whiling away the hours until lights out. Sitting at the desk while Piper lay on the bed, Marcus was cleaning Reason, using the maintenance kit he had purchased from Arturo to oil and polish every inch of his signature weapon.

‘Where did you get the name Reason from anyway?’ asked Piper nonchalantly.

‘Well, enemy won’t always listen to me… but they _always_ listen to Reason’ he replied, turning back and smiling as she rolled her eyes.

‘So… you came up with it in Sanctuary?’

He thought back to the first time he had heard the name at Fort Davis in Anchorage. His squad were a well-known and highly decorated unit, having racked up a slew of successful operations. After a particularly dangerous mission, their commanding officer had congratulated them, paying special attention to Marcus and saying that the Chinese must have seen reason and run from the superior soldiers. His spotter, the original Marcus, heard the praise and christened his rifle “Reason”.

The name had stuck.

Piper noticed his reverie and sat up slightly, waiting for his answer.

‘It… was a long time ago. The name just stuck, I guess.’

‘Oh,’ she said, her expression shifting, the disappointment evident. ‘Another secret from your past?’

‘Piper, it’s not like that. It’s just-‘

‘Its fine, Blue. I’m sure you’ll tell me later…’

Her voice trailed off as she lay back down, a tense atmosphere threatening to descend. Marcus placed Reason on the desk and sat on the bed, staring down at the floor as he sighed.

‘I’m sorry,’ he began, unsure of what else to say. ‘I should’ve told you sooner, but it was… difficult.’

Piper sat back up, slowly this time, laying a hand on his shoulder as she rose to sit beside him on the edge of the large bed.

‘Blue, you don’t have to. I’m sorry, I-‘

‘No,’ he said, the finality of his tone cutting her off. ‘You deserve to know.’

With one last sigh, he began his tale. He told her of his pre-war life, from his days as a soldier to the life he had made in Sanctuary Hills with Nora and Shaun. He told her of the Vault and the cryogenic pods hidden within, a twisted experiment from Vault-Tec which prolonged his torment.

Throughout his story, Piper listened attentively, offering soothing words when he faltered. As he ended with the formation of Sanctuary after the Siege, a heavy silence fell between them.

‘Marcus, I had no idea. I’m… I’m so sorry’ she said eventually, her hand remaining on his shoulder.

‘Nate,’ he replied softly. ‘Not Marcus. Nate.’

Her grip tightened slightly as she ran her hand over the knotted muscles of his shoulder before moving away.

‘Nate,’ she said experimentally, a small smile playing on her lips. Marcus felt an odd sensation at hearing her say his name, as if his mind and body were separate for a fleeting moment before uniting once more. ‘Huh… I prefer Blue.’

They both smiled, with a rough chuckle escaping Marcus. Piper frowned as she struggled with her thoughts, a question clearly building within her.

‘Ask away,’ he said, accurately reading her. ‘You’ll burst if you hold in a question for too long.’

She smirked at the last but adopted a solemn expression as she spoke.

‘So… Kellogg came into your vault and… took Shaun,’ she said tentatively. Marcus bristled at the mention of the mercenary’s name but gave a brisk nod. She continued. ‘And you’ve been trying to find him ever since?’

He sighed internally, impressed that Piper had found the hole in his tale. Having already told most of his story, he continued on, telling her of his days after the Siege.

Her expression was blank as he talked about how he had given up his quest to find Shaun, how he had abandoned everything to begin again in Sanctuary, even going so far as to shut down Codsworth, the one remaining link to his past. Finishing with the events in Sanctuary, where he had been ambushed by two synth infiltrators, he watched Piper’s face intently.

‘I understand,’ she said after a moment. With two words, Marcus felt a great weight fall from his shoulders, the shame which he had been clinging to dissipating. Piper continued, her voice lowering. ‘There was a time when I gave up too.’

Marcus watched as she sighed, waiting patiently as she had done for him.

‘Don’t think I’m gonna let a golden opportunity like _Cynthia_ go though,’ she began, grinning as she referenced the synth who had attacked him back in Sanctuary. ‘I mean… Cynthia? SYNTH-ia?! Come on, Blue.’

As she laughed, Marcus noticed how the joy failed to reach her eyes, which held a sadness he had not seen in them before. Her expression began to shift as she began her tale, emotion evident in her voice.

She told him that she, alongside Nat and their father, grew up in a small settlement on the outskirts of the Commonwealth, living a decent life in a small, tight-knit community. Her father was a member of the local militia, responsible for the security of the settlement. She told Marcus how the captain of the militia, a man named Mayburn, had struck a deal with a local raider gang and offered to unlock the gate to the settlement.

She faltered as she told of how her father had found out and confronted the captain, only to be killed in cold blood to keep his silence. Having witnessed his murder, she had gone to the authorities, but they had refused to investigate a superior officer, especially on the testimony of a child. She had taken it upon herself to seek justice for her father and set about spreading her message to everyone who would listen.

The posters she had put up, and her sheer relentlessness, had paid off and the townspeople rallied around her, calling for justice to be dealt. With the captain exiled and the raiders driven away, Piper could not face the prospect of living in the town any longer.

Marcus noticed as she clenched her fists, holding back the emotion which threatened to overwhelm her.

‘It’s okay,’ he said, placing a hand on her arm to comfort her. ‘Take your time.’

Silence seemed to envelop the pair.

Eventually she sighed, mustering enough strength to continue.

‘So there we were… just me and Nat, going out into the big, bad Commonwealth,’ she began. ‘Dad didn’t have much money so we had to scav for a while, selling odd junk where we could and getting by on the road.

‘One day, we were scavving downtown, picking through this old house, when Nat found something… someone. A boy was hiding in the filth, scared that we were there to kill him. It took a while to get his trust but he eventually told us his name was Elliot, and we headed out together; just the three of us.

‘We stayed like that for a while, moving from place to place, trying to survive. Things were… good, almost. Peaceful.’

Marcus thought back to his own past and the life he had in Sanctuary Hills. The halcyon days spent with Nora and Shaun as a family. A true family. Piper continued after slight hesitation, the words coming out with considerable effort.

‘We… were at this old estate by the river, west of Diamond City, trying to find something to sell… or eat. We managed to find some good salvage and avoided all the mirelurks wandering around…’ her voice trailed off, becoming little more than a whisper. ‘We didn’t see them until they were right on top of us. Synths. A whole unit. I got off a few shots as we ran, but…

‘Elliot… got hit. We were so close to Diamond City. We could see the wall but there were too many. I carried him into the city as the guards took care of the synths. McDonough didn’t know who we were. Started asking questions. I tried to tell him Elliot needed help but… he made us wait.

‘We had to wait as they asked us question after question. “Synths could try anything to infiltrate.” They never even gave us a chance.’

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm herself.

‘Elliot would’ve lived, Blue. If they hadn’t made us wait, he would’ve been fine…’

Her voice hitched and she slowly took off her signature flatcap, rotating it in her hands to expose the inside rim. In childish handwriting, a name had been scrawled across the cloth.

_Elliot Smith_

She held the cap there for a moment, allowing Marcus to see, before placing it back on her head, flattening it atop her curls.

‘I couldn’t do anything after that,’ she whispered. ‘For the longest time, all I could do was hold onto Nat and make sure nothing happened to her.’

Drifting into another silence, Marcus put an arm around her shoulders and felt her head nestle into him. After a time, she stirred raising her heavy-lidded gaze to his, their faces mere inches apart.

No words were necessary.

The kiss was sudden but measured, slow. Their lips met, brushing against each other softly before deepening. Her hand moved along his strong shoulder, up to the back of his head as his fingers ran through her thick, tangled curls.

A memory surfaced without warning.

The smell of roses. The heat of the noonday sun on the back of his neck. Nora laughing as he moved closer, the grass beneath them swaying in the breeze.

He pulled back and, feeling his resistance, Piper followed suit. He stared at her blankly for a moment, the memories now rushing through him.

Driving to the hospital. Hearing Shaun’s first cries. Moving to Sanctuary Hills.

As death loomed for his former life, it all flashed before his eyes, overwhelming him.

He stood, mumbling something reminiscent of an apology, before leaving the room, unsure of where he was truly going.

* * *

The cold air hit him like a physical blow, but to his fevered mind, it was a relief. He stepped out onto the flight deck, walking along its length to clear his head.

He spotted Paladin Danse leaning over one of the railings, his muscular frame slumped over the thick metal bars. He turned his head slightly at Marcus’ approach, nodding in acknowledgment before turning back to the open air.

Marcus joined him, staring out onto the Commonwealth, barely illuminated by the gibbous moon. The stars seemed to hang in the sky, glittering diamonds on black velvet, seemingly the only constant in his life.

‘Something on your mind?’

Marcus turned to see Danse staring at him, the concern on his face as evident as the faint smell of whiskey on his breath.

‘It’s… complicated’ came his reply, unsure of how to answer such a broad question succinctly.

Danse turned to him, scrutinising his face for a few moments. Something about the intensity of his gaze coaxed Marcus from his reticence. In general terms, he told the paladin about how he once had a family in the Capital Wasteland, using the lie he had created for Piper’s interview. He explained how his wife was killed by raiders and his son was kidnapped, bringing him to the Commonwealth to search for him.

Danse bristled at the tale, his muscles tightening as he clenched his fists. Still holding the railing with a vice-like grip, his expression softened as he beheld Marcus.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’ve lost people, but I can’t imagine your pain.’

His hand instinctively went to his neck, where he toyed with a pair of holotags.

Having released some of his tension, Marcus began anew, launching into a flurry of concerns. He spoke of how much Piper reminded him of his late wife, stopping as Danse cut him off.

‘She’s a strong woman,’ he said suddenly. ‘I may not agree with her, but I respect her will. She’s survived out here longer than I would have thought possible for someone without military training. She’ll be fine.’

Marcus was impressed at Danse’s insightfulness. The paladin had accurately guessed his true worry, namely how he could protect Piper as he had failed to do for both Nora and Shaun. The post-war world had given Marcus new perspectives, but his pre-war sensibilities still hindered him at times.

‘She doesn’t need to be protected,’ he thought to himself. ‘She’s been fine without a guardian. She needs something more.’

Danse drew himself to his full height as he continued, addressing Marcus’ main concern.

‘You have to choose her for her, not for who she reminds you of. She deserves that,’ he said, new emotion beginning to creep into his voice. ‘You have nothing holding you back. But you have to choose _her_ … because you want to be with her… don’t you?’

Marcus nodded as Danse continued once more.

‘It's a good feeling, but it… can be frightening. Having a bond with someone then losing them...it changes you.’

 ‘Thank you,’ said Marcus after a solemn moment. ‘I admit… I never expected such words of wisdom, paladin.’

Danse smiled for a beat, before he glanced over his shoulder at something Marcus had failed to notice.

At the back of the flight deck, Knight Hart was standing with Squire Burke and a few other soldiers, chatting as she worked the night patrol. He saw the look of longing he had seen earlier in the mess hall, and decided to impart some wisdom of his own.

‘ _You have nothing holding you back_ ,’ he said, mirroring Danse’s advice. ‘ _But you have to choose her… because you want to be with her… don’t you_?’

Danse stared at him for a second before smiling, raising an arm to peer at his watch.

‘It’s late… best go back inside before anyone else notices you up here.’

Marcus nodded, thanking the paladin again for his advice and heading back towards the command deck. He heard Danse clear his throat loudly and turned, seeing him rise to his full height one final time and salute, clasping his fist to his chest.

‘Ad Victoriam, Soldier’ he called out to Marcus.

‘Good luck, Paladin’ came the whispered reply as Marcus snapped a crisp salute back.

Full of courage and dread in equal measure, he turned on his heel and left the cold behind him.

* * *

The metre to the bulkhead door felt like a mile. Marcus grasped the handle, bringing it down slowly and swinging the heavy door open on well-oiled hinges.

Entering the room, he found Piper pacing before the bed, a troubled expression on her face as she turned to him.

‘Blue!’ she began. ‘Look… what happened… I’m sorry, it was a mistake and I should’ve-‘

She continued speaking, but Marcus could no longer hear her, as he watched her mouth move silently, feeling his heartbeat in his ear drums. The blood pounded as he saw her in front of him, not as Nora – no longer the girl he had fallen in love with over 200 years ago – but for who she truly was.

Piper Wright.

He walked forward and interrupted her tirade of apologies with a kiss, holding her close as her knees buckled slightly in surprise. She resisted only for a moment, unsure of what was happening, before returning his kiss as both of them slowly moved backwards to the bed.

She lay down, his body following as their embrace tightened, deepening the kiss. As the Prydwen went dark, they lost themselves to their shared passion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my hiatus for NaNoWriMo (and Christmas) is over and I can finally get back to more BM! Thankfully, the remaining chapters are all original content so won't take too long to write... hopefully XD 
> 
> Just want to say thank you for all the kudos, comments, and for taking the time to read my first ever fic :P I appreciate all the support!


	10. Initiate for a Day

Marcus’ face reddened as he ate the bowl of mirelurk stew, desperately trying to ignore the silly grins which were being thrown his way. As he had entered, the entire room had grown silent, the soldiers jostling their comrades and nodding in his direction until all eyes were upon him. After a few moments, they had returned to their own conversations but he still caught the mention of his name or a quick sideways glance.

Earlier that morning, a Squire had opened the door to Marcus’ room, taken one look at the pair of bodies lying under the sheets, and left without a word. Within an hour, the gossip had spread across the Prydwen, from talkative Squires to bored Knights on patrol. It was only when Marcus woke and made his way to the mess hall that he realised his liaison with Piper had become more public than he would have liked.

Sat at the same table as the previous day, he focused on his meal. Despite the saltiness of the meat and the fact that it had the distinctly unappetising texture of slime, he managed to finish the small bowl, raising it to his lips as he drained the thick broth. He left the table and walked across the mess hall, placing the empty bowl atop the cleaning cart before heading for the short corridor to the grease pit.

He stopped just outside the room as a raucous cheer echoed from behind. He smiled faintly, remembering his comrades back in Anchorage and the boisterous nature of their teasing. Entering the grease pit, he was greeted by a large Knight in full power armour, who merely nodded his acknowledgment as he squeezed past, continuing his patrol.

The pit itself was relatively silent, the occasional buzz of power tools echoing slightly in the open space. Rows of power armour stations – some filled, others empty – decorated the pit, lined as neatly as soldiers in battle formation. Marcus remembered seeing the battle suits for the first time. Pinned down under heavy Chinese fire, two soldiers in power armour had joined them and the tide of battle had quickly shifted.

A darker suit of armour caught his attention.

Weathered by age or constant use, the armour stood between the others, too large to fit inside the power armour station. It was a T45 suit, similar in design to the T60 sets it stood beside but somehow out of place.

The steel was dull and non-reflective, unlike its counterparts on either side, which gleamed in the harsh neon lighting. Bigger and bulkier than the others, its deep scars and holes told of numerous battles fought and won, though at a heavy price. Myriad insignias and chevrons adorned the large shoulder plate, most of them unknown to Marcus. He stepped forward to examine the armour further but somebody approached from the other end of the pit.

‘I’ve tried telling her she needs an upgrade but nostalgia is a powerful thing,’ said the unknown soldier, nodding to the scarred armour as she strode towards him, the servos in her artificial legs whirring as she walked. She smiled at his look of confusion. ‘You must be the Sniper of Sanctuary I’ve been hearing about. I’m Ingram. Proctor Ingram. Welcome to the grease pit.’

Proctor Ingram proceeded to lead Marcus around the grease pit, giving him an impromptu tour before leading him over to Codsworth, who floated a metre above the floor in standby mode.

‘How’s he doing?’ he asked, examining the Mr Handy bot, a look of concern flashing across his face as he ran a hand over the robot’s smooth chrome shell.

‘Better than expected,’ replied the Proctor as she slowly walked around the robot. ‘The repairs were all successful and we managed to reclaim most of his original programming.’

‘Most?’

‘Oh, don’t worry, we saved his memory and personality drives,’ she said before sighing. ‘But some of the damage was more… extensive than we first thought.’

A sliver of ice formed in Marcus’ stomach as Ingram continued.

‘The chrome plating was never designed for the type of punishment it had to endure,’ she told, gently chiding him as she shook her head. ‘One of his appendages was severed almost all the way through.’

Marcus’ mind leapt to the image of Codsworth taking the heat from the turrets back at Fort Hagen and Kellogg’s vicious assault.

‘Thankfully, we had some salvage from an old military grade Mr Gutsy and managed to retrofit some enhanced armour and weapons. That doesn’t mean you can take him into another warzone though,’ she said sternly, pointing a finger at him. ‘He’s still a housebot, no matter how much armour we slap on. You’d do well to remember that.’

Sufficiently cowed by her lecture, Marcus thanked her for repairing Codsworth and turned to leave, the cool air of the flight deck beckoning him.

‘They’ll forget soon enough,’ came Proctor Ingram’s voice from behind him. He turned slightly to see a grin creep across her face. ‘The soldiers, I mean. They don’t have a lot to talk about up here and it’s been a while since the last rumour. Don’t worry too much, they’ll find something else to gossip about soon.’

Still grinning at him, she snapped a quick salute before an initiate caught her attention. Kneeling beside a suit of power armour, he had fumbled with the power tools and made a mess of the station. Ingram’s mechanical legs whirred and hummed as she walked away, already striking fear in the lowly soldier as he dropped the tools and scrambled to his feet.

Marcus turned away and headed for the flight deck, the last sounds he heard being Ingram’s bellowing tirade and the initiate’s subsequent whimpering.

* * *

He tracked the creature with the scope, following its smooth, shuffling motions as it scuttled across the desolate landscape far below. It stopped as it began to examine the half-sunken corpse of a ghoul, sucked down into the thick mud after running into a Brotherhood patrol.

Adjusting for gravity and wind direction, Marcus took the shot, squeezing the trigger and feeling the rifle vibrate slightly before the familiar thud shook his shoulder. The bullet flew, arcing through the air before it hit the mirelurk in the neck, tearing through the exposed section of soft flesh beside the armoured carapace. The creature slumped forward, its claws flailing wildly for a moment before keeling over.

Marcus sighed and adjusted his scope, focusing on a target further away – a lone feral ghoul by the coastline – and shifted his position slightly. He watched the grotesque twitching of the ghoul as it slowly walked along the water’s edge, its rotten flesh twisting as it scanned ahead for prey.

Following the creature with his scope, Marcus felt eyes on the back of his head and turned to see Squire Burke standing beside him, watching him absent-mindedly. He caught sight of a small teddy, wrapped in what looked like a bomber jacket, before he stuffed it into his pockets, his eyes remaining firmly fixed on Marcus.

He watched as the young Squire’s jaw tightened defiantly, red-rimmed eyes still watching him intently. A thin sheen of sweat was on his forehead despite the cool air on the flight deck.

Piper had always described the Brotherhood Squires as little more than child soldiers, indoctrinated from birth to be obedient to the Elder. Marcus had silently disagreed, having seen the Squires interact with Knight Rhys and Scribe Haylen at the Red Rocket Outpost. But on the Prydwen, things were very different.

The Squires were taught the word of the codex by the Scribes and were expected to remember the passages by rote. Marcus had unfortunately seen the punishment applied, a young Squire – no older than twelve years old – sat at a separate table in the mess hall, his rations for the day slashed until he learned the passage he had misquoted.

The children were taught who to hate and how to kill them before they were old enough to truly understand why. Piper had stopped telling him about the way they were mistreated now, but he noticed how her expression changed when they passed one of the improvised “classrooms”, and how her step quickened to take her away as quickly as possible.

When he now looked at the Squires, he saw almost nothing but soldiers, young Knights, Paladins, and overzealous Scribes in the making. But Burke was different. In Burke, Marcus saw behind the strength and defiance, behind the training and teachings of the Brotherhood.

When he looked at Burke, he saw a child. A child forced into a world no child should ever have to endure. He saw the innocence behind the defiant expression and the resilience behind the fire in his eyes that only pain and hardship can create. But most of all, he saw his son. Beneath the Brotherhood training and toughness, he saw what Shaun could have been if he had seen his son grow up.

Marcus turned to face the open expanse over the edge of the deck.

‘You know how to shoot?’ Marcus asked, cutting the silence as he wiped his eye surreptitiously.

He watched as the Squire nodded, a sly grin creeping across his face, before taking his place beside him. Burke lay flat, fumbling awkwardly with the large rifle and struggling with the grip.

‘Here, let me show you how to hold it properly… before you hurt yourself.’

He instructed the Squire and made sure he held Reason correctly, the stock planted loosely against his shoulder.

‘Now, adjust the scope to find your target,’ he said, picking up a pair of binoculars and hunkering down beside his temporary protégé. They both settled their sights on the feral ghoul. ‘Alright, now be patient, don’t just-‘

The muffled thump of Reason stopped his thoughts instantly. He watched as the bullet struck a nearby wreck of a car, drawing the ghoul’s attention, and sighed.

‘As I was saying…’ he continued forcefully, cowing the young Squire slightly. ‘Be patient with the shot. Don’t just fire the first chance you get.’

‘But Paladin Danse told me not to hesitate…’ replied Burke, frowning as he turned to face him.

‘When you’re this far away, you need to remember that you have time. Be patient,’ Marcus explained. ‘With a rifle, you’ll mainly focus on support and recon. The Paladin was probably talking about not hesitating in the heat of battle. Understand?’

He nodded, the frown less pronounced, and eyed the scope once more. Marcus watched through his binoculars as the ghoul moved towards the car, searching for the source of the sound.

‘Patience,’ Marcus whispered, imagining he was taking the shot himself. He felt the breeze stir his bare back – where the jacket had lifted slightly – for only a moment before his body went numb. He focused. ‘Always aim for centre mass. You see the way the clothes are moving?’

Burke watched the mouldy cloth wrapped around the ghoul’s body sway gently to the right. He aimed slightly to the left to compensate.

‘Squeeze the trigger when you’re ready. Don’t pull it. Take… your… time.’

The muffled grunt of Reason sounded and Marcus watched as the bullet struck the ghoul in the chest. It fell to the ground, writhing in pain for a second before laying still, black blood beginning to sink into the earth around its body.

‘Not bad,’ he said, raising his head from the binoculars to see Burke’s grin widen. ‘You keep practising like this and I’ll take you with me on a patrol around Sanctuary… if the Paladin approves, of course.’

Much to Marcus’ amazement, the Squire’s grin widened further still. Before he could answer however, they both turned as footsteps came padding down the flight deck, a dull clanging accompanying each step on the metal walkway.

A Squire bounded towards them as the pair stood, locking eyes with Marcus as he stopped a few yards away.

‘Elder Maxson requires your presence on the command deck’ he said, somehow mustering less expression than a protectron.

‘Requires? The Elder _requires_ my presence? No _request_?’

The Squire paled.

Marcus sighed, running a hand through his hair as he hoisted Reason on to his back. An ammo box lay open, .308 rounds and empty casings lazily scattered across the deck. He turned to the Squire.

‘Will you be alright to clean this up please?’

The Squire wore a strange expression, regarding Marcus with a mix of wariness, fear, and general confusion.

‘Poor kid must be used to orders being barked instead of manners’ Marcus thought to himself, giving a sad smile in response.

‘We’ll clean it up,’ said Burke, noticing the Squire’s apprehension. ‘You go and see the Elder.’

Marcus put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and squeezed gently before turning away and heading towards the command deck.

‘Requires?’ he muttered with a smile as he opened the heavy door. ‘I’ll show him _requires_.’

* * *

Despite the urgency of the Squire’s message, Marcus still found himself having to wait outside the observation deck. A vague memory of waiting outside General Leary’s office surfaced before dissipating as Piper was led into the room by a tall Squire with dirty blonde hair.

She thanked the Squire and was regarded with the same expression Marcus had received minutes earlier, before making her way to him.

‘Can’t believe you haven’t called, Blue,’ she said, feigned indignation painted on her face. ‘I really thought you were different.’

He chuckled, pushing her playfully as she joined him, her warm smile capturing his gaze.

‘You have any idea why we’re here?’ he asked as she sat beside him.

‘None,’ came her reply, a frown creasing her brow. ‘My best guess is that the Elder has either found a use for us or decided we’ve outstayed our welcome.’

As Marcus was about to chide her for her cynicism, the doors swung open and Lancer Captain Kells strode past, heading down to the control deck. Behind him, a tall woman followed, her hair cut short and her movements strong and precise. She turned her head to assess the pair before climbing the ladder to the main deck. The entourage ended with Paladin Danse, a scowl etched onto his face, stomping away to the flight deck without glancing in their direction.

The pair exchanged glances as they stood, moving towards the door. Inside, Maxson sat at the table with a weary expression. Seeing them, he sat up straight and beckoned for them to sit. His eyes wandered from Marcus to Piper and back again, resting for just enough time to make them uncomfortable.

‘I won’t waste time,’ he said suddenly, breaking the tense silence. ‘A dangerous group of radicals known as the Railroad have-‘

Piper scoffed, interrupting him, and opened her mouth to counter. His glance stopped her dead.

‘As I was saying…’ he continued as if the interruption was nothing. ‘A dangerous group of radicals known as the Railroad have been carrying out attacks against both the Institute and the Brotherhood. The physical assaults have mostly relied on guerrilla tactics, owing to our superior numbers but the main threat comes from infiltration and sabotage. Their agents have proven adept at gathering classified data from our archives and using it to great advantage on the battlefield.’

Marcus noted the admiration in the Elder’s tone and nodded to himself, remembering the respect and wariness for his enemies that kept him alive during the war. He could hear the warning voice of his spotter – the original Marcus – in his ear.

‘Never underestimate the enemy. They’re people just like you and me. You think you can’t lose to them and a Red will happily prove you wrong with a well-placed round’ he used to say, taking the sagacious tone he adopted when a lecture was imminent.

Marcus shook away his thoughts and returned to the conversation as Maxson continued.

‘Some of our operatives have recently received credible information regarding the whereabouts of one of their agents; an expert on Institute technology.’

‘What does this have to with us?’ asked Piper incisively, her journalistic curiosity getting the better of her.

‘We… acquired a piece of technology from the mercenary you eliminated-‘

‘Kellogg…’ breathed Marcus, his muscles tightening involuntarily. Maxson nodded.

‘This piece of technology could potentially hold the key to finding the Institute and put an end to their schemes once and for all,’ he said. ‘But we’ve run into a wall. The device seems to be encrypted to a degree we’ve never seen before. Our best Scribes have been working non-stop to gain access but…’

For a moment, the Elder looked frail, the weight of his position evident in both expression and posture. He sighed before regaining his composure, but there was still a certain hollow expression in his eyes.

‘We need that agent to help us. With her expertise, this war can finally be over.’

‘But why do you need us?’ asked Marcus. ‘If you know where the agent is, why haven’t you sent a squad?’

The pair watched Maxson closely as he stroked his beard, struggling to form his thoughts. Eventually, he seemed to give in and cut to the chase.

‘The agent is in Goodneighbor.’

Piper sat back in her seat and Marcus understood why the Elder had needed their help. Though he had never been to Goodneighbor, he had heard of the settlement from the scavengers and traders of Sanctuary. Depending on who was informing him, Goodneighbor was either a self-sustained marvel, ruled by the people and for the people, or a wretched hive of scum and villainy; though the latter was the biased report of Knight Rhys, and Marcus knew better than to blindly trust the prejudices of the Brotherhood.

‘Now, as you can imagine, anyone even _remotely_ related to the Brotherhood would be turned away… or worse,’ Maxson explained. ‘I’d rather not risk escalating tensions with Goodneighbor. Not while this war has us spread so thin. What we need is someone more...’

‘…Expendable?’ offered Piper, a sly grin playing on her face.

‘Unremarkable’ finished Maxson.

‘Speak for yourself…’ came Piper’s muttered reply. Marcus suppressed a smile.

‘That’s where you come in,’ said the Elder, once again ignoring Piper’s flippant responses as he focused solely on Marcus. ‘I need you to go to Goodneighbor and find the agent. Convince them to help you any way you can. You’ll have the full support of the Brotherhood behind you and all of our bargaining power at your disposal.’

He leaned in closer.

‘Without this device, we may never find the Institute,’ he said, his eyes drilling into Marcus’. ‘This could be your chance – your _only_ chance – to find your son.’

Marcus instantly realised what Maxson was doing, using Shaun as a bargaining chip, but knew his words rang true. Without the device, he had no more leads. Kellogg was the sole, tenuous link to his son and with him gone, there was nothing left. The mercenary had offered no clues as to the whereabouts of the Institute, taking his last secret to the grave.

‘Fine’ Marcus said begrudgingly, forced between a choice between a duplicitous role in the ongoing faction war and losing his only chance to find Shaun. There was no real choice there, he realised, but resented being used as a pawn nonetheless.

If the Elder noticed his scowl, he stayed silent, nodding his approval instead.

‘Very good. You’re to head to Goodneighbor as soon as you’re ready. There’ll be a vertibird waiting for you on the flight deck,’ he said, taking a folder from inside his battlecoat and laying it open on the table. ‘Now… the agent-‘

‘I’m going too’ said Piper flatly, stating the fact rather than asking for permission. Marcus’ scowl deepened as he turned to her, about to argue against it, when Maxson spoke first.

‘It would be good to have someone who is trusted among the people of the Commonwealth,’ he said tentatively, pronouncing each syllable slowly as he thought over the prospect. ‘I see no harm in it. She can go… as long as she can be trusted.’

The icy stare that accompanied the jab was met with the venomous glare Piper sent his way. He merely cleared his throat and turned back to Marcus, showing him the folder and explaining the mission in greater detail.

According to the Elder, the agent in Goodneighbor was a woman named Doctor Amari. The intel suggested that she had been seen heading into the settlement but any details as to her location within were non-existent. The scribes who had gathered the intelligence had hypothesised that the doctor was a specialist in synthetic memory wiping and an integral part of the Railroad’s operations.

Marcus and Piper were tasked with making contact with her and convincing her to decrypt the device. Once the device had been decrypted, Marcus was to report back through a specific radio signal which would be tuned into his Pip-Boy. A vertibird would then exfiltrate them from outside the town and their mission would be complete.

‘Proctor Ingram will make necessary adjustments to your Pip-Boy,’ finished Maxson, sitting back in his chair. The expression of frailty had become pronounced once again. His voice grew low as he continued. ‘We’ve known for a while that the Institute is somewhere underground. We record a signal every time they teleport their troops and supplies but…’

His voice trailed off, lowering to a whisper.

‘…it’s never been enough.’

Marcus exchanged a quick glance with Piper.

‘Elder Maxson… the war isn’t over yet,’ began Marcus, looking at the tired man before him, the antithesis of the man he had first met just days earlier. ‘I know that-‘

‘What do you know?’ exclaimed the Elder as he sat straight, the fire in his eyes burning away any hint of fatigue and weariness. ‘The war has gone on for too long! We haven’t even come close to finding their base and every day we can’t, the lives of every soldier under my command are at risk. We need this to work. We need a win…’

The sudden outburst left Marcus paralysed in his seat, unable to tear his eyes away from the young leader. He felt for the Elder; with leadership thrust upon him at such an early age, he had been expected to take control of an incomparably large military force.

Marcus had seen good men crushed by the yoke of leadership during his time as a soldier. Men who were expected to lead and command, send their former friends and comrades to their deaths, without hesitation or remorse. He had seen war change people for the worse time and time again. And two hundred years later, in a new world decimated by wars long past, war had reared its head once again.

‘War never changes’ he thought as he felt pity rise up at the sight of Elder Maxson’s hollow expression.

The Elder regained his composure briefly and mumbled a quick apology for his outburst before sending them on their way, instructing them to find Ingram on the main deck. Out of the observation deck, they passed a Knight on guard duty and headed out to the open air of the flight deck.

‘What was that about?’ asked Marcus rhetorically, unsure of what else to say. ‘Did you see how desperate he looked?’

Piper looked out over the desolate vista, a slight frown creasing her brow. She took a moment before replying.

‘I’m not so sure, Blue. It all just seems so…’ she began, her words failing her. ‘I just don’t trust him.’

‘Nor do I,’ came his reply as he looked at her solemnly. ‘But he’s the only one who can help us at this point. If this is the only way to get Shaun back-‘

‘I know,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’m with you. Whatever you need.’

He pulled her into an embrace, feeling her head nestle into his shoulder. They stayed there for a few moments, letting the Brotherhood soldiers around them pass them by as they continued with their duties.

‘Come on,’ he said eventually, taking a deep breath as he released her. ‘Let’s go see Ingram.’

* * *

The grease pit was loud, with a number of Knights working on their suits of power armour at large stations bolted into the floor. The sounds of machinery and power tools followed Marcus and Piper, receding to a faint drone as Proctor Ingram led them to a secluded section of the main deck.

Codsworth hovered above the ground, his thruster low in standby mode as they approached. Ingram booted the Mr Handy bot and the trio waited with bated breath as he slowly rose higher, the thruster gaining power as the internal processors began to whir. He slowly raised his eyestalks, the metal lenses spiralling open.

‘ _Mr Handy Designation: Codsworth… ready for instruction._ ’

Marcus’ heart dropped as the unfamiliar voice spoke from his old friend’s chrome body, the lifeless eyestalks lazily observing his pained expression. He opened his mouth to speak but he could only muster a strained sound before Codsworth’s raucous laugh made him jump.

‘Oh sir,’ the Mr Handy bot managed through the laugher. ‘You should’ve seen the look on your face! I truly _got you_ then, eh?’

Marcus could only stare in shock before a scowl appeared on his face.

‘I’m sorry sir, I truly am…’ Codsworth continued. ‘It seems my humour array has been adjusted. Shall I run a self-diagnostic?’

‘No…’ replied Marcus, a warm smile breaking through the scowl. ‘I’m just glad you’re okay, buddy. You _are_ okay, right?’

‘Oh my yes!’ came the bombastic reply, far too loud and conspicuous to be a genuine response. Codsworth hovered closer until his eyestalk was almost brushing Marcus’ nose. He lowered his voice to a whisper despite the fact that Piper and Ingram were close enough to hear every word regardless. ‘Between you and I, sir, these new panels are a tad… snug. No room for the old bolts, if you catch my drift.’

‘On second thought, a self-diagnostic might not be the worst idea’ Marcus chuckled, patting the cold, chrome shell of his friend as Ingram beckoned him over. Codsworth hovered over to talk to Piper as the Proctor addressed Marcus.

‘Happy with the fix?’ she asked with a small smile.

‘Thank you,’ was all he could say in response. ‘I’ll make sure he stays safe, don’t worry.’

‘Well… you’d better,’ Ingram replied, motioning for his Pip-Boy. He unclasped the device and handed it over. ‘His armour’s good to go but the circuitry can’t take much more. Just make sure the most he has to endure is cleaning the carpet.’

Marcus nodded dumbly like a schoolchild in front of the headmaster.

In little more than a minute, Proctor Ingram had disassembled the Pip-Boy, placing each part neatly on the table as she slotted the memory chip into the terminal. As she typed in the radio frequency, along with a number of other Brotherhood frequencies and locations as contingencies – she spoke at length about her role within the Brotherhood and her recent duties.

She told Marcus about Institute technology and how complex it was, even to the best scribes the Brotherhood have to offer. The topic slowly shifted to the cybernetic augmenter which had been recovered from Kellogg’s body, a small, innocuous looking device with the toughest encryption she had ever seen. Her expression changed as she spoke of the Elder’s anger at her failure to decrypt the technology, muttering about different systems and a lack of decent equipment.

Marcus allowed her to speak freely, glad for the information and noting how she used the rambling to focus on the task at hand. She defended her efforts by listing the ways in which she served the Brotherhood, from fixing the Prydwen and training aspiring engineers within the order to creating, building, and maintaining signal jammers to prevent the Institute from teleporting into Brotherhood outposts and bases.

She was halfway through a sentence detailing the various hurdles she had overcome in creating the signal jammers when her words suddenly cut off and she looked up at Marcus.

‘All done,’ she said, wiping her brow as she tightened the last screw and handed the Pip-Boy back to him. ‘Thanks for the conversation, helps me think.’

‘No problem’ Marcus replied as he secured the Pip-Boy on his wrist, unsure of whether he had said a single word in the past ten minutes.

For the first time, he was able to see through the dirt and oil streaks, and saw the harsh lines around the Proctor’s eyes and mouth, his main focus taken by her unfocused, bloodshot eyes. He realised the intense strain the ongoing war had put on all involved and pitied the friendly Proctor. He also thought about the innocent people of the Commonwealth caught in the middle of the pointless conflict and felt a familiar heat flood his body.

‘So, what are you planning on doing with Codsworth?’ she asked, bringing him back to reality.

‘I was thinking he could stay here until we’re back,’ he said, feeling the heat recede somewhat. ‘I’m sure he’ll be in good hands.’

‘I’ll make sure he behaves,’ she said as he got up to leave for the armoury. Piper and Codsworth had already headed over to speak to Proctor Teagan about supplies. ‘Good luck, Marcus.’

He nodded his thanks and saw the sad smile she wore, frowning as he left her behind and joined his companions.

* * *

‘Well, he was a barrel of laughs,’ said Piper as she stuffed a handful of ammunition clips into her satchel. ‘I’ve met starving settlers more willing to part with their caps. Better breath too…’

‘He’s definitely a shifty one,’ Marcus laughed, cleaning Reason with the kit he had procured from Arturo. ‘Still, we have what we need. Enough ammo, stims, and caps to be ready for anything the Commonwealth can throw at us.’

‘Don’t jinx it, Blue.’

The pair packed their equipment and headed to the flight deck, finding the vertibird waiting for them. As the pilot helped them to load up their supplies, a familiar whirring made them both turn to see Codsworth hovering towards them in an obvious hurry, a small entourage of giggling Squires following behind.

‘Sir! Madam! I have had enough of this ship! I have been assaulted!’

Codsworth stopped short of them and Marcus got up in an instant, a frown creasing his brow as he checked the bot for signs of damage

‘What happened, buddy?’ he asked, noticing that the robot kept rotating to keep one side of his chrome body out of sight.

‘Well, I was in the mess area, talking to a rather sour old gentleman, when a ruffian attacked me…’

‘Blue,’ said Piper. ‘I’m no fan of the Brotherhood, but attacking Codsworth after they just finished fixing him? That makes no sense.’

His suspicion aroused, Marcus turned his attention back to the hovering Mr Handy, glimpsing a grey flash before Codsworth turned away slightly.

‘Codsworth,’ he said, extending the name as if questioning a child. ‘What happened?’

Codsworth seemed to struggle to find his voice as the Squires giggled behind, Ingram giving them a half-hearted glare as she tried to contain her own smile.

‘Well… I wasn’t _attacked_ per se, but… well, I…’

‘Codsworth.’

Recognising the finality of Marcus’ tone, Codsworth revealed all.

‘Something is in my special place…’

Piper looked to Marcus, desperately trying to hold back her laughter.

‘He means the small spot on top of his head,’ he explained as he waved Codsworth over. ‘He can’t reach that high up so things just… get stuck there sometimes.’

He remembered the incident with the pink sock back in Diamond City and suppressed a grin.

Codsworth turned and slowly lowered himself so that the pair could see the issue. On top of his head, a grey cat had curled up behind his eyestalks, basking lazily in the noonday sun with its head resting on its paws. Marcus recognised it as the same cat he had glimpsed on occasion during his time on the Prydwen; Proctor Quinlan’s pet, Emmett.

The animal raised its head to look at the pair with sharp eyes.

 _Meow_.

The small sound was too much and both Marcus and Piper erupted in riotous laughter, much to the chagrin of the proud Mr Handy bot.

‘Well, I’m glad you two are taking this seriously,’ the Mr Handy bot admonished, his voice rising once more. ‘This… this _vermin_ -‘

 _Meow_.

‘-is leaving its fur _everywhere_! And the claws! Have you seen them? It could be scratching my new plating as we speak!’

The laughter died down and the pair slowly calmed, Piper wiping away her tears as Marcus controlled his breathing.

‘Sir, I wish to join you on your mission. My time on this _awful_ vessel is over’ he said, the agitation – artificial as it was – clear in his voice.

Emmett gave a long purr, shifting his weight so that his tail rested on one of the eyestalks.

‘Get. Off. Me… _Creature!_ ’ Codsworth yelled, gyrating his body in a jerky motion to eject his uninvited passenger.

Emmett merely rolled onto his belly and stretched out with a yawn, obviously uninterested by the bot’s tantrums.

‘Well, if you’re sure, buddy.’

‘Yeah, you can tag along…’ chimed in Piper. ‘…Catsworth.’

Codsworth sighed, heading for the vertibird as the pair devolved into fits of laughter once more.

‘Why couldn’t they have just left me in Sanctuary…’

* * *

Marcus tried to ignore Piper’s heaving as the vertibird pitched slightly, failing miserably as her ashen face rose from the open doorway.

‘You doing okay?’ he asked.

Piper dragged her eyes to his, her mouth twitching slightly as she failed to give a reassuring smile.

‘I think I hit a raider…’ she managed before another bout of turbulence sent her back over the edge, sending her breakfast to the raider gangs far below.

‘Charming,’ said Codsworth, swivelling his eyestalks over to Marcus. ‘I’m glad that you’ve kept such… _high_ standards, sir.’

Marcus scowled at the bot, before letting the ride occupy his mind. He looked about the aircraft, his gaze landing on the Knight behind the minigun. She had her helmet on the seat beside her and her ice-blue eyes stared out at the Commonwealth, one hand resting on the minigun.

‘You lose something over here?’ she said, glancing over at him with a smile.

He felt his face grow warm. She was startlingly beautiful, with her cool gaze and sharp features giving her a precise beauty, emphasised by her pale skin. Her long blonde hair had been tied back into a tight, militaristic ponytail.

‘Been in the Brotherhood long?’ he asked, feeling the awkwardness drift away as Piper’s retching reached his ears once more.

‘Long enough,’ replied the Knight. ‘We’re heading to the Common. Back when I came over, that was my first assignment. Scout the area. Easy enough, right?’

Marcus nodded as she warmed to the subject.

‘Turns out the Common belonged to a behemoth. Watched him jump out the lake and throw an anchor at the boys on the ground. Poor bastards never stood a chance,’ she continued, her head lowering for a moment. ‘Anyway, I saw my chance and took it. Big bastard never saw what hit him.’

‘ _You_ killed a behemoth?’ Marcus asked, instantly regretting his incredulous tone.

The Knight merely laughed.

‘Well, I had help…’

She patted the minigun barrels and Marcus noticed the name ‘NANCY’ carved into the weapon.

‘Nancy?’ he asked.

‘Left her back on the Prydwen,’ came the Knight’s reply with a wink. ‘She’s keeping the bed warm until I get back.’

‘And Elder Maxson doesn’t mind the fraternisation?’

‘Ha,’ she snorted. ‘Between you and me, the Elder sees synths around every corner. You really think he cares what we’re doing? Or who?’

She gave a wink and focused on something out of the door. The barrels began to rotate before bullets flew from the gun at a blinding pace. The barrage stopped and the Knight regarded the glowing barrels with concern before nodding and sitting back, stretching her legs out.

They spent the rest of the flight talking about the Brotherhood, Sanctuary, and regaling each other with tales of battle. Codsworth joined in the conversation, offering stories of banal housework which the Knight seemed to adore. Even Piper managed to drag herself away from the edge to share a funny story before the turbulence sent her back.

Reaching the Common, Marcus noticed the small Brotherhood outpost that had been erected in the centre. The Knight left with a salute and a mandatory offering of ‘Ad Victoriam’ as she took her original position behind the minigun, rising high above them until the vertibird was nothing more than a grey speck in the pink-streaked sky.

A pair of eager Initiates gave the trio directions to Goodneighbor and wished them good luck before heading over to a nearby Field Scribe. As Marcus passed, he saw that they were helping the Scribe work on a protrectron sheltered in a charging pod.

‘Do you miss her already?’ asked Piper, raising an eyebrow to compliment her grin. ‘The Knight from the ride over. You couldn’t tear your eyes away.’

‘Jealous?’ Marcus smiled, receiving a Piper stare for his efforts.

They made their way through the Common, following the broken neon signs to Goodneighbor which led them through broken streets guarded by dead buildings. An air of unease hung in the air, pervading the cracked concrete and rusted metal of downtown Boston. Piper led the group, with Marcus guarding the rear, his hand never far from Reason.

‘My, this place could definitely use some attention…’ said Codsworth as he hovered between them.

Turning a corner, they saw a ramshackle wall made of corrugated metal sheets and large building panels towering above them. Marcus spotted an unassuming door set into the wall and took the lead. They had only made a few steps when a shot rang out and a section of the concrete wall beside him exploded in a small shower of dust.

Marcus turned, his eyes scanning the buildings above them but before he could draw Reason, a gravelly voice called out from the other side of the wall.

‘Stop! That was just a warning shot,’ said the man, his rough voice telling Marcus that he was speaking to a ghoul. ‘Mac’s got a bead on you. Don’t do anything stupid.’

He tried to see the unknown sniper but there were too many windows. Whoever the shooter was, he knew how to stay hidden.

The door swung open with a slight creak and Marcus turned to see a ghoul dressed in a dirty suit and battered fedora move cautiously out to greet them. He stopped a few paces away, holding a submachine in front of him. He fixed the trio with a long stare, his eyes narrowing.

‘If you’re gonna question us, can you make it quick?’ asked Piper eventually, her patience clearly wearing thin. ‘My feet are aching and I could really do with some food.’

The ghoul seemed to approve of her outburst, a small grin now etched into the deformed flesh of his face.

‘Who are you three? And whaddya want in Goodneighbor?’

Marcus thought on the nickname he had heard outside of Diamond City and hoped that his reputation would precede him.

‘This is Codsworth and Piper,’ he said. ‘And you might know me as the Sniper of Sanctuary.’

‘Wait… Piper? As in Piper Wright?’ the ghoul asked, his eyes firmly fixed on Piper.

She nodded cautiously.

‘No way… it can’t be…’ the ghoul said, raising what would have been his eyebrows as he moved towards them, hand outstretched. Marcus extended his own but stood speechless when the ghoul bypassed him completely, grabbing Piper by the wrist and wringing it violently. ‘I can’t believe it. Piper Wright herself is in Goodneighbor… and I’ve shaken her hand!’

He released his grip and moved back sheepishly, his eyes still on Piper.

‘So… you know who I am?’ she asked, surprise clear on her face.

‘Are you kidding? Your paper’s all over town! Everyone knows about Publick Occurrences!’ exclaimed the ghoul. He waved them over towards the doorway, lowering his rifle.

‘Wait, you haven’t heard of the Sniper of Sanctuary?’ asked Marcus, feeling his face flush.

The ghoul gave him a puzzled look, as if a child had asked a nonsensical question before shaking his head. Piper strode past, wearing a smug expression.

‘Jealous?’ she grinned, noticing Marcus’ disappointment before heading for the door.

‘Sir, I do believe she used your own quip against you’ offered Codsworth as he hovered past, following her to the doorway.

Marcus trudged after them, looking up as he passed the ghoul to see him tip his hat back to wipe his brow. He noted the fact that there was no sweat and was about to put it down to a habit, when he followed the ghoul’s gaze. Turning, he saw a series of flashes in one of the windows of a tall building and knew that the ghoul had given the hidden “all clear” signal to the sniper far above.

With the trio cleared for entry, the ghoul unlocked the door and ushered them into the cramped courtyard. They were surrounded by buildings and a low wall separated them from two shopfronts ahead. A large edifice loomed over them, across from the shops, which Marcus recognised as the Old State House, a historic landmark from a time before pre-war.

He felt strange thinking about a time so long ago – before both of his lives – and wondered if there was anybody besides the odd pre-war ghoul who remembered the peace that once existed. Pushing aside his thoughts, he moved over to Piper as the ghoul scurried away, entering the Old State House in excitement.

‘Why are you so trusted here?’ he asked her, remembering the reception both Piper and her publication had received in Diamond City.

‘It seems that the good people of Goodneighbor obviously value truth,’ she said smugly, nodding to a passing guard before her gaze landed on an anti-Institute propaganda poster, displaying a well-dressed ghoul standing over a dead synth. ‘And they aren’t afraid to acknowledge the threat of the Institute either.’

Marcus looked around and remembered the town he had heard of from the Brotherhood soldiers aboard the Prydwen; a chaotic settlement rife with crime and so-called abominations. He couldn’t help but be impressed by how thoroughly Goodneighbor had broken his expectations.

The citizens had created a place free from the dangers of the Commonwealth where they themselves stood guard; not unlike the feat he had accomplished himself, back in Sanctuary. He watched two ghouls dressed the same as the one from the gate walk across the buildings in a patrol, before heading back through the main path into the town proper.

‘Memory Den’ came a voice from behind him.

Marcus turned to see a figure he hadn’t noticed as he entered the town, a woman dressed in mismatched pieces of leather and metal, spikes protruding from the joints to give her a menacing appearance. Leaning against the wall, her face half-draped in shadow, he could only see one eye glaring at him with a fierce intensity.

She stepped forward.

‘Memory Den,’ repeated the woman in a rough voice, tinged with the shaky quality Marcus had encountered in chem addicts before. ‘Follow the path, keep going. You can’t miss it.’

Marcus’ face must have worn a puzzled expression because the woman sighed with irritation, as if explaining a difficult subject to a dim child.

‘You want the Memory Den,’ she continued, slower than before. ‘Follow the path all the way and you’ll see it in front of you.’

‘I’m sorry, but what-‘

Marcus had barely begun speaking before the woman walked away casually, heading into the Old State House without so much as a look back.

He turned and received a shrug from Piper, obviously just as confused by the event as she was.

‘What an odd woman…’ mused Codsworth, before swivelling an eyestalk to Marcus. ‘However, this _Memory Den_ does seem to be the only lead we have on the good Doctor’s whereabouts. Perhaps we should investigate?’

‘Codsy’s right, Blue. We don’t know where the agent is and asking around directly might tip her off.’

Marcus chewed his lip before answering.

‘Okay,’ he said, relying on the wisdom of his very own investigative journalist. ‘Memory Den it is.’

The trio followed the path, moving between the Old State House and various houses, warehouses, and other less reputable buildings. They reached a large open space in the middle of town, with one side leading down into a dingy little area, a neon sign reading “THE THIRD RAIL” hanging above the entryway.

Across the main street, they could see a large, squat building with the wooden façade of a theatre hanging above the entrance. A well-printed sign labelling the place as the Memory Den had been nailed into place above the doors. Marcus once knew the building as the Olympia Theatre, deep in Scollay Square, but the surroundings were now alien to him, burned by nuclear fire and wasted away after two hundred years.

The street was cracked and dirty, with many vagrants settled in improvised shacks along the edges, built up to the wall where they met watchtowers with guards looking out over the ruins beyond. They made their way to the building and entered, the smell of perfume assaulting their senses as they crossed the threshold.

They moved further into the den, passing a lone guard who nodded his acknowledgement from behind the security glass, before going back to the terminal. Marcus could hear the faint sounds of a video game holotape from the booth and smiled to himself.

The trio entered into a large room, with large pods arranged neatly down each side. In the middle, an aisle led to a small raised platform, the remnants of a stage, where a middle-aged woman lay on an elaborately decorated chaise longue. She beckoned to them and as he neared, Marcus saw the vaudevillian feathered dress, immaculate hairstyle, and rouged cheeks. He knew the woman was the head of the establishment and was about to greet her when she spoke.

‘My name is Irma… and welcome to the Memory Den,’ she said slowly, her voice soft but resonant, easily filling the large room. ‘Are you prepared to delve into the depths of your minds and explore the deepest, darkest secrets of the psyche?’

She was a natural orator, giving her patter to another potential customer as effortlessly as waving her hand.

‘Thank you,’ replied Marcus. ‘But we’re not here to use the… er, pod things.’

‘Pod things?’ she asked, her smile growing wide as she rolled the words around her tongue. ‘The memory loungers are capable of so much more than you know. You could go back to any time in your life and experience your memories again. Your first love. Your first kiss. Your first…’

Her voice trailed off and Marcus marvelled at the enthralling nature of her slow, hypnotic delivery. Codsworth seemed to be dumbfounded and even Piper stared with genuine interest.

‘I’m sorry, Irma. But we’re not here to use the memory loungers,’ he said carefully, unsure of how to ask for Doctor Amari. He settled on an angle and hoped it worked. ‘We’re just here to see an old friend and we heard she might be here?’

‘Is she in one of the loungers?’ came Irma’s reply, her hands lazily gesturing to the machines around the room. She watched them as they stared around at the empty loungers for a moment before continuing. ‘No? I have no rooms available here… except for Kent. Perhaps try the Hotel Rexford? Maybe your friend went there?’

‘Look, if you can tell us anything you know, we’d be grateful,’ implored Piper, chasing the lead thoroughly. ‘Our friend’s name is Amari, she’s a doctor. Ring any bells?’

Marcus noticed a flash of alarm in Irma’s eyes but it passed as quickly as it came. He saw her hand touch something on the arm of the chaise longue and his keen eyes noticed a small camera in a corner of the room turn to focus on them.

‘Amari? Amari… Can’t say I’ve heard the name. As I said, try the Rexford. They get a lot of-‘

Irma was interrupted by a woman entering the room from behind the stage. She walked out from the shadows and looked at Marcus closely.

‘Who are you?’ she asked abruptly. ‘And why do you want to see me?’

Marcus and Piper looked at the new arrival blankly as Irma’s face blanched.

‘Doctor, we don’t even know what-‘

‘It’s okay, Irma,’ replied Amari, an implacable accent rounding her syllables. ‘I’ve taken an oath to help those in need… whoever they may be.’

Piper stepped forward.

‘Doctor, we need your help with something,’ she said as she pulled the cybernetic augmenter from her satchel and held it up. ‘We need this-‘

Her speech was cut short as the doctor closed the space between them in quick strides, grabbing Piper by the wrist and leading her over to the door behind the stage. Marcus followed behind, wearing an odd expression of equal parts worry and curiosity.

Ignoring Piper’s irritated exclamations, the doctor led them into a small, white room beneath the Memory Den, with narrow hallways branching off into equally sterile surroundings. She released her grip on the frowning journalist and took the cybernetic augmenter from her hand, plugging it into an open slot in the nearby terminal.

Her eyes scanned the screen frantically for almost a minute before she turned to them, relief on her face.

‘It’s clean. I was looking for a tracking device,’ she explained, eyeing them with suspicion. ‘This is Institute technology, far more advanced than anything I’ve seen before. Where did you find it?’

Marcus shifted uneasily before answering.

‘We killed a mercenary who worked for the Institute and he had that on him,’ he said, sticking to the truth as much as possible, the guilt of his duplicitous mission already weighing on his conscience. He pointed to the cybernetic augmenter. ‘Please, he took my son. I need to know what’s in that thing.’

Doctor Amari frowned, her eyes staying on Marcus as she mulled over his proposition.

‘I’m sorry,’ came her eventual reply. ‘It would take a day, maybe two, to crack the encryption. And I can’t risk drawing attention to myself… or Goodneighbor.’

‘But what about your oath? You said you have to help!’ answered Marcus, fighting back his anger. He couldn’t let his only lead to Shaun slip away.

‘I have promised to help those in need… but not at the expense of others,’ she said, her eyes sad but her expression firm. ‘If I knew for certain that there was credible intelligence within this device, crucial to destroying the Institute, then perhaps it would be worth the risk. But as it stands…’

Marcus’ gaze dropped to the ground, hopelessness taking root as Amari continued.

‘I can’t, in good faith, accept the word of two strangers that there _might_ be something important here. Unless…’ she said. A strange expression crept onto her face. ‘Do you have a Geiger counter?’

Marcus stared at her for a few moments before turning to Piper, noticing how she returned the same expression as the doctor. Before he could ask Amari what use a Geiger counter would be against Institute encryption, Piper cut in.

‘Mine is in the shop’ she said flatly, her words hanging heavy in the still room.

She felt her face grow warm as the others turned to look at her. Amari simply nodded, turning to the terminal to begin the decryption process. Codsworth hovered lazily, an eyestalk blinking at her.

‘Piper?’ said Marcus, looking at her with an inscrutable expression.

Was it concern? Anger? Hurt?

She walked out without a second glance as the air became stifling. Marcus followed a few seconds later, heading out into the cool air of Goodneighbor with a slight frown creasing his brow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N - Hello again! I'm sure seeing a new chapter of BM was a bit of a surprise but it's been coming for quite a while (life has a tendency to get in the way XD). Don't worry though, the fic is far from dead... just think of it as an intermission. For the past few weeks, I've been writing the rest of BM, working to finish the fic in its entirety before uploading so that I can keep to a weekly upload schedule. This chapter has been sitting around for a while and I'm basically uploading to let you guys know that the rest will be coming eventually and when they do, expect regular, weekly uploads (I mean it this time!).
> 
> I also want to thank everyone for the kudos, reviews, follows etc. for giving me the motivation to write during this hiatus. You guys are awesome and I'm glad you're all still enjoying BM. Anyway, thank you guys so much and I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :D 


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